^ PS 

1165 





I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS,^! 

Shelf ..-^ .-G^3 



UNITED STATES OF AMERSCA. "i 



/ 
OLIVER CROMWELL; 

A TRAGEDY IN FIVE ACTS, 



y ' 



T. SEATON DONOHO, 



ot Washington, o, c, 



Author of •'■ rite Goldsmith of Padua;' ^' Jvywcfll;' '^Moena;' ^-^ 



<y:, 



Co WASHINGTON, D. C. 

"WIILUM n. MOOBi:, PKI5TER, 
1S60. 



OLIVER CROMWELL; 



A TRAGEDY IN FIVE ACTS, 



^" 



T. SEATON DONOHO 

14 



OF WASHINOTON, D. C 



Author of ^'' The Goldsmith of Padua,'' ^^ Ivywali;' ^^Jloena," ^-c. 



(A WASHINGTON, D. C. 



WILLIAM H. MOORE, PRINTER. 



1860. 



Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by T. SsATON DoNOHO, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the District of 
Columbia. 



^:..^^.^ 



'"-^ •■ ^i^^ 



^-3^1 






N^. 



^< 



OLIVER CROMWELL; 



N FIVE ACTS, 



Persons Represented. 

Oliver Cromwell. 

John Milton. 

Sir Henry Ardenne, an old Cavalier. 

Edgar Ardenne, his Son. 

King Charles. 

Lord Digby, a Courtier. 

Lenthall, "I 

Hollis, j- Members of Parlianjent. 

PVM, J 

Sexby, a Lawyer. 

Physician. 

Andrew, Servant of Milton. 

Joseph, old Servant of Sir Henry. 

A Page. 



Queen Henrietta. 

Mabel, Adopted Daughter of Sir Henry. 

Elizabeth, Daughter of Milton. 

Julie, a Dancing Girl. 

Spirit.* 



Ladies of the Court, Lady Cromwell and two Daughters, Soldiers. 

^ Female, young and beautiful. Dress, white, simple in style, 
with blue scarf from right shoulder to left side. Sandals. Golden 
helmet, with white ostrich plumes. In her right hand a wand of 
gold, terminated by a silver star, set with brilliants. 



OLIVER CROMWELL 



ACT L 

Scene 1. — Woodleigh Parle Mabel icalking^ tcith a book in her hand. 

Mob. A good and evil genius walks the ■world, 
Each life's attendant. What may chance to me, 
Edgar in Italy — and Cromwell here ? 
Cromwell, a clumsy, rude enthusiast. 
Who, like the worst of sinners, plays the saint, 
Groaning with piety ! Mabel ! Mabel ! 
Thou art a silly girl ; thy dreams are idle : 
Exchange them here for flowers and fruit of wisdom. 

[Reads, leaning against a tree.) 
Enter Edgar. 

Edgar. The hills and vales do give me welcome home ! 
I greet thee. Mother England ! Ho, what's here? 
The lady reads. Ah me! lo be the book 
That so may charm those world-subduing eyes ! 
Mabel ! 

3Iab. Edgar! [They embrace.) 

Can it be truly so? Most welcome ! welcome ! 

Edgar. This is, indeed, the music of the heart, 
That I so long have sighed for ! 
I knew you not, at first ; the change is wondrous — 

3Iab. Then let your wonder make you dumb about it ! 

Edgar. But wonder cannot live without expression ; 
Neither can I without [Kissing her.) 

Mab. Italian fashions ! 

Edgar. Nay, it is English — or I think it so ; 
if you think otherwise, translate it for me! 

[Offering to kiss her again.) 

Mab. Indeed, I scarcely yet can trust my eyes — 

Edgar. Your lips confirm it, whatsoe'er it be ! — 



6 OLIVER CROMWELL. [ACT 

Mab. That, truant as you are, and traitor, too, 
You stand before me now ! So long we gazed, 
For your expected, for your promised coming! 

Edgar. Mabel, did you know what anxious thoughts, 
What pangs, these wearisome delays have caused, 
There would be pity rather than upbraiding ! 

Mab. Fair words — but merely tinsel ! Yet with such, 
" Lords of Creation," as you style yourselves, 
You deem you brush away the heaviest score 
Of broken vows from minds of simple maids 1 
Still, of a truth, I do not marvel wisely. 
When here you dally in your father's park, 
Nor question aught of him ! Good sooth, preferring 
To round these fine excuses to a lady. 
Who fully knows their value ! Sir, for shame ! 
For my part, if I felt it not, Fd feign 
Some natural affection ! 

Edgar. Nobly spoken ! 
But can you not, wise moralist, divine 
A fit solution for the mystery? 
You in the park, so blithe and beautiful. 
Is full assurance all goes well at home ! 

Mab. Well parried, if not honestly ! But come. 
I warrant, had you met Sir Henry first. 
You had not once inquired : " Does Mabel live ? " 

Edgar. I had not, if he met me with a smile ! 

Mab. A truce to compliments ! 

Edgar. Now by this hand — 

Mab. You shall not have it ! 

Edgar. Never ? 

[A hunter's horn is heard.) 

Mab. Hark ! your father ! 

Sir lIenrij.[u-ithout.) Alert! alert! you of young blood, alert ! 
[^DG\n offers to go.) 

Mab. Stay ! 

He scarce would see you now. The hunt is forward ! 
And after waiting three good years, a day. 
Surely, will not seem long! 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL 7 

Edgar. A minute is : 

Delay of duty, with the power to do it, 
Should be as brief as — 

3Iab. Lovers' promises ! (Edgar loalks hack.) 

They perish in the breath that gives them life ! 

Sir II. {Nearer.) Methought I was myself full early stirring, 
But here are ye — who have been up all night I — 
Beforehand with me ! What ho ! knaves ! our breakfast ! 
'Fore George, we'll make a day of it ! Where's Mabel ? 

Mab. Here, sir, am I! 

Enter Sir Henry. 

Sir H. Fly, Mabel— fly, my fairy 1 

Do on your riding gear right speedily ! 
Ariel is champing on his bit, even now, 
To summon you away ! But who is yon? 

Mah. A new-found friend of mine. 

Sir II. A friend of yours I 

Mab. And of Sir Henry ! 

Sir II. Mine? What! what! I'll have him 

A-horseback on the instant ! Sir, good morrow ! 

(Edgar turns toward him.) 
My son ! my son ! [Embracing, and weeping.) 

Why, what are these? tears? tears? 
But I am glad to see you, 'spite of tears ! 
There'll be no hunt to-day ! 

Edgar. but there will, 

To honor my return ! 

Sir II. Ha ! say you so ! 

Faith, a good thought! Then you Avill ride Avith us? 

Mab. The moment that the traveler dismounts — 
Like a considerate and loving host, 
You ask him to the hunt ! 

Sir II. I had forgotten. 

Rest is for you : and Mabel — 

Mab. Ariel waits : 

" Ariel is champing on his bit," Sir Henry ! 
Beside, Sir Henry : 
The traveler needeth rest, and rest is none 



8 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT I. 

Where there's a woman ! I have heard you say so ! 

Sir II. A saucy jade ! But like her mother, Edgar — 
Though somewhat wilder ! Well, time tames us all ! 

Edgar. Away at once, dear father, if you love me ! 
Assured that I am safe at home again, 
Bring me, in token of fair welcome back — 
A noble stag 1 And that T may possess 
Good appetite, which is from peace of mind, 
Be sure take Mabel with you ! 

Sir II. If you will have it so. 

EnUr Andrew. 

What wants yon knave? 
A rascally, starved roundhead 1 

And. [To Sir H.) Is this the residence of Ardenne — him men 
call "Sir Henry;" cumbering their tongues with vain distinctions, 
titles alike unsavoury and unprofitable? 

Sir H. Scoundrel ! Who taught you this address ? 'fore George ! 
ril teach you better, in a single lesson ! 

Mah. {Aside. — What can he seek? I saw him yesterday.) 

[To Sir H.) Be patient, Sir. The man means well, no doubt ; 
But foolish fiincies, called hj some religion, 
Pervert his sense of duty. 

Sir II. Sense ! Look, knave ! 

God and the King have made some gentlemen. 
And I am one of them ! Off with your hat ! 
[Knocks it off.) 

And. [Deliberately replacing his hat.) 

Truly_art thou after the King's own image ! Ne'ortheless, with 
that idle matter will I not w^aste precious words. Can you tell me 
aught of him I seek? 

Sir II. I am Sir Henry Ardenne ! 

And. Nay, my call is not with the carnal Cavalier, but with his 
son — 

Sir II. xMy son, villain? 

And. A godly youth, men say — honest and sanctified ! yea, one 
of the elect — 

Edgar. [To And.) Though thou fiatterest me — 

And. Nay! no offence ! for if thou be'st the man, 'twere worth 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 9 

thy while to listen. I am the bearer of a letter ! yea, of two letters, 
for the good youth, Edgar Ardenne. If worshipful John Milton's 
letter — 

Edgar. Milton ! Why said'st not so before ? Where is't ? 

And. [Prese7iiing a large, sealed packet.) Here is one, which is not 
his ; and here another {offering a smaller letter) which is. [Aside. — It 
maketh my heart glad to see his joy, yea, his exceeding great joy !) , 

Edgar. I know his beautiful, bold, manly hand; 
Though but too seldom have I seen it lately. 
Ah, those were golden days we roamed together 
Through blooming Italy I 

3Iab. Break not the seal ! 

do not — do not break it ! Send it back. 
Without a word — unopened ! 

Edgar. What is this ! 

Mab. Question me not, but do, as I entreat thee ! 
There's trouble here : the wax will hold it prisoner, 
But, once set free, thou canst not bind it more ! 
'Twill bend thy youthful form ; 'twill mark thy brow 
With strange and awful lines ; 'twill bid thine eyes 
O'erflow with hot and unavailing tears ! 
The earth will be accursed to thee ; the heavens 

Without a star ! 

And thou, even thou, with sorrow-shrouded soul, 
Shalt seek an early, a dishonored grave ! 

Edgar. Dishonor ! Mabel ! 

Sir II. Thou I Ardenne! Dishonor! 

The world has never joined those words together, 
And never shall ! My long ancestral line 
Is pure as yonder sunbeam from the cloud ! 

Atid. (Aside. — Yea, from a cloud !) 

Edgar. Mabel, what mean you ? 

3Iab. That, I scarcely know ; 

Yet listen to me : When in Italy, 
Ycur letters ever teemed with Milton's praise ; 
Sonnets you sent me, he had written there ; 
Told me of visits to the grand Cathedrals, 
With how divine a touch he struck the organ, 



10 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT I- 

And roused its slumberous thunder, till it seemed 
A joy, a wonder, a sublimity ! 
And then his daily life grew mystical, 
And in his daily, nay his hourly speech. 
The ancient dream of liberty arose. 
Improved, adorned by his luxuriant fancy ; 
And still he gave it words, and richer words, 
And still he worshijtped that impossible ! 

Edgar. All this is true. His skill is masterly. 
I honor and I love him. Now, what more? 

Mab. But little. That you love him, well I know. 
And therefore do I fear! 

Edgar. Danger in that ! 

Danger in loving Milton ! Why, the earth 
Hath never felt the tread of nobler man ; 
Mild as the morning, patient, wise, and studious ; 
In form, Apollo ; Hercules in soul 1 

Mah. Milton came home before you ! 

Edgar. Well. 

Mab. Not so : 

For England was not England when he came ! 
There was, and is, a terror through the land — 
A whispered dread of — 

Edgar. What ? 

3Iab. I cannot tell : 

The crafty powers of darkness are let loose, , 
And lurk around the throne — to topple it ! 

Edgar. I see not in the dark. 

And. [Asidie. — But /do, like a cat.) 

Sir H. 'Tis nothing. Rumors 

Have gone about, 'tis true, of some contention 
Between the Royal Charles and Parliament. 
But these are all absurd. A certain Cromwell — 

Mab. Cromwell the friend of Milton ! — 

Sir II. So 'tis said. 

Leads the revolt. It will be hushed to-morrow. 

Mab. Heaven grant it may ! 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 1 1 

Edgar. This Cromwell ? 

Sir H. But a clown, 

A slovenly and overgrown poor farmer, 
Who seeks, by some commotion of the people, 
To rise upon the top wave, like a porpoise, 
And roll awhile i' the sunshine : nothing more. 

Mab. But sailors say, the porpoise thus fortells 
The coming storm. And so, my dear, good Edgar, 
Send back those letters ! Trust me, danger's in them ! 

Edgar. Then I will have it out. 

Mab. I pray you ! 

Edgar. Prayers 

Are often heard — in Heaven! 

Mab. Would they were 

On Earth ! 

Edgar. [Breaks the seal, and reads.) What's here? what's here ? 
My friend — John Milton — says, " our land lies struggling," 
"Her liberties " — " no hope of their redemption " — 
" Unless " — And here again : What have we now ? 
'• With circumstance so honorable, to take 
Your place in that high council of the nation " — 
My place ? — This packet may explain. It does. 
" A candidate " — " the House of Parliament." 
" We ask no pledge — we indicate no conduct — 
But trust to you our lives ! " — 'Tis passing strange ! 

Sir H. 'Tis more than passing impudent ! My son ! 
The roundhead scurvy villains ! They ! the base 

Mechanic burghers ! 

You will refuse them, Edgar ! In their teeth — 
Is it not so ? — hurl back their insolence ! 

And. [Aside. — The old Cavalier rideth an impatient steed, which 
runneth away with him ; and his son bears him not company !) 

Mab. [Aside. — I read his face : 
The seal of fate is set !) 

Sir II. You hesitate — 

You will accept this flattering invitation ! 
Doubtless vou will ! 



12 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT I. 

And. (Aside. — wonderful old man, to see so well without 

glasses !) 
Edgar. Father, I do accept, 

A pause. 

Sir H. No, no, you do not, Edgar I Dare not do so ! 
You ! an Ardenne ! Of twenty generations 
Of lofty, noble, loyal Cavaliers! 
You blend yourself with the foul blood of craftsmen, 
Pinched, beggarly mechanics ! Band yourself 
With hypocrites and traitors 'gainst your church, 
Your country, and your King ! 

And. (Aside. — Let the good youth judge for himself; and I will 
even visit the dwelling of this ancient Cavalier, and introduce 
me to the cook, for verily do I yearn after the flesh pots of 
Egypt !) Bxit. 

Edgar. If these be traitors, I am surely none. 
Should I accept and represent their voices 
By a most patriotic vote — what then? 

Sir H. Then excellent, i' faith ! And so, these knaves, 
These puritans, would have you rob the church, 
And manacle the King — but you, my boy, 
Vote like a loyal Cavalier 1 Now tell me — 
Is not my hair grown whiter ? 

Edgar. Sir, you jest. 

Sir H. It should be whiter : I am more a fool ! 

Edgar. White hairs have ever been the signs of wisdom. 

Sir H. Ashes of heat, and snow of flower and fruit! 
Believe it not ! It is some old man's lie — 
And I am witness to 't I Enough ! enough ! 

And now to breakfast. 

Come, my dear girl ! You cannot understand 

These grave affairs of State — but all is well I 

Let that assure you ; or a breakfast may ; 

Or gallop with the hounds. Hark 1 tally ho ! Exit. 

Mabel. (Aside. — All's well ! There's nothing more for thee, poor 
Mabel ! 
'Tis womaD'<? lot still to be told " all's well !"' 



SCENE II.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 13 

And to believe it, or pretend belief, 
Even when, with less of Avisdom than a man, 
She moves more surely through a labyrinth. 
"Airs well!" thou hear'st it, Mabel I) 

Edgar, {Aside. — Yes, at once 
Will I to Milton. Much there is to say. 
And if to do — the sooner done the better !) 
Mabel, forgive me, if my words were harsh ; 
For I am sad at heart ! 

Mab. I do, dear Edgar I 

But answer not this letter ! 

Edgar. What, again ? 

The offer is a free one ! 
And if they please me not, I follow not — 
And thus may serve the King. It is my duty ! 

Mab. It may be. 

Edgar. Is ! And you shall own it ia 1 

But come : for I'll to horse within the hour. Exit. 

Mab. I saved you from the hunt, for you were weary, 
Now you will ride, and are no longer so : — 
'Twas wrong I To chase the stag had little danger. 
To meet the Royal Lion may be — death I Exit. 

Scene 2. Night. Librarg in the cottage of 'MiLTom. A casement open. 
The music of an organ is heard, from an inner apartment. Elizabeth 
discovered, listening. Music ceases. Enter Milton. 

Eliz. The daintiest music that I ever heard ! 
Why is it, father, that 'tis new to me ? 

Mil. Because it came to-night from yon fair Moon ! 

Eliz. Only composed to-night ! 

3Iil. A prelude, daughter ; 

I trust a prelude to a happy strain, 
Which even now is murmuring at my heart. 
As yet, the hour is early: ere I sleep, 
I'll write some rhyming words — two songs, mayhap ; 
And " L' Allegro " shall be the name of one ; 
And of its shadow — what? " II Penseroso." 

Eliz. Stories of Italy ? 
2 



14 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT I. 

Mil. But seeming so : 

The scene shall be in England. — 
And part of it is round our own dear porch. 

Eliz. The vines, the little garden ? 

Mil. Yes, of those 

A loving word or two : the porch may be 
The frame- work of the picture. Something thus : 

" Through the sweet-brier, or the vine, 
Or the twisted eglantine " 

Eliz. I know it will be beautiful I Your touch 
Can make our simple garden, Paradise ! 

Mil. [Aside. — The garden — Paradise! — 
There is a thought in that ; it pleases me : 
Paradise Lost — a mournful, wondrous theme ! 
Yes, I will ponder it.) 

Eliz. What think you, father? 

Mil. Only of trifles, in the eyes of men. 
The age is stormed with troubles ! presently 
Shall peace return ; and then my lofty song, 
My universal song, shall win the world. 
Who will not let it die ! 

Eliz. [Aside. — His mind is crowded 
With its mysterious guests. I ever know 
When fancies press upon him. So, good night ! 
His magic wants no witnesses.) Dear father, 
I go to do my copying : the task 
Is nearly finished. 

Mil. [Abstractedly.) Would to Heaven 'twere done ! 

Eliz. I do my best 

Mil. Right patiently and well. 

But not of that I spoke : not words, my daughter. 
The swiftly-coming future teems with deeds, 
And those, I fear, of blood 1 0, Liberty ! 
Is there no music welcome unto thee 
But sighs and groans and shrieks 1 No offering 
But human hearts, piled, quivering, on thy altar! 
Must thou behold the widow's agony; 



SCENE II.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 15 

The orphan's helplessness ; the death of pity ; 
Ere thou wilt smile to bless us ! 

Eliz. Speak not thus ! 

Surel}^ it is a dream I England is safe ! 
These sorrows are thin clouds; the light shines through, 
And brighter still, to chase them far away! 

Mil. It may be, but mine eyes shall never see it ! 

Eliz. Why not ? Have patience yet a little while. 

Mil. I shall not see it ! 

Eliz. Why, dear father, why ? 

Mil. Dost thou forget ? 

Eliz. Forget ?— 

Mil. There comes a darkness 

Over my eyes, at times, that, as I write, 
Changes the paper to a sombre grey, 
In which the words do fade, like stars at morning ! 

Eliz. My poor, dear father, wilt thou not, for me. 
For one who loves thee — yea ! with all her soul ! 
Wilt thou not rest ? Wilt not refrain these studies, 
That so devour thy sight ? 

Mil. There's one who urges me to constant toil, 
One whom I love even better than my daughter — 
England ! For her sake, grant me power, Heaven, 
To labor on ! Like Sampson, blind yet strong, 
Let me defy the enemies of freedom. 
Hug the huge pillars of the tyrant's temple. 
And crush it to the earth — though I, too, perish ! 
Not for a day, not for a day, God ! 
I work for centuries ; and grope in darkness 
That light may shine for millions yet to be ! 

Eliz. The deed is grand. I almost worship that. 
But still I love my father, and would save him. 

3Ul. Be brave, my child ; for kind thou ever wert. 
Obedient ever. Thy reward is sure. 
Remember, then, I, too, obey my Father ! 
Now to thy chamber; write no more to-night: 
And I will only whisper to the Moon, 
An hour at most, then hie me to repose. 



16 OLIVER CROMWELL. [acT I. 

Good night ! 

Eliz. Good night ! 

Mil. And in thy prayer — 

Eliz. As ever ! Exit. 

Milton crosses to the casement^ and gazes upward. 

Mil. Beautiful light ! Beautiful lamp of Heaven ! 
What marvel that the heathen worshipped thee ? 
That from a thousand hills their altars sent 
The silvery smoke of adoration up ? 
Not knowing Him, the One, the uncreate, 
What marvel thou shouldst seem a Deity, 
The first-born offspring of His earliest gift, 
And blessed emanation from His glory ! — 
For I, His favored servant, strive in vain 
To wean my heart from thee I Though, soon, no more 
Shall I behold thy spirit-soothing smile. 
A dread and everlasting midnight comes. 
What duty, then, remains ? Why, still to labor, 
That mental blindness follow not I 

Enter Andrew. 

And. There be a man on the porch. 

Mil. Robber, or honest man ? 

And. Verily, he should be honest, for he looketh not like a Cav- 
alier ; and his name is Cromwell. 

Mil. Why came he not in ? 

And. In good sooth, and of a verity, because I did not ask him ; 
but rather did desire he should wait without, till it should be plain 
unto me that you reclined not, even in the arms of Somebody. 

Mil. Somnus were more correct. 

And. We live and learn ; yea, and verily do we learn more evil 
than good. For the times are full of wickedness, yea, and of abomi- 
nation ; and the bishops persecute the people, and the King, like 
unto another Cassar, would grind the Parliament under his iron heel, 
but for such a friend of liberty, such a noble soldier of the Lord, as 
brave Master Cromwell 

3Iil. AVho waits in the chilly night I 

And. I will go straightway, and admit that faithful servant 



SCENE II.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 17 

Mil. As thou art one thyself. 

And. Yea, verily ! Exit. 

Mil. His words are wrong, but those are from the lips. 
His life is right, and that is from the heart. 
Enter Cromwell. 

Give you good evening, Cromwell. 

Crom. Master Milton, 

The Lord be over you ! 

Mil. I cry you pardon that you stood without. 

Crom. Nay, but a moment, with the pleasant moon — 
The only pleasant thing in England's night ! 
Nor, were there blame, were you the least to blame — 
And Andrew did his duty civilly. 
Ne'erless, there is a fault : and I cry pardon, 
Intruding on your studies, 

3Iil. Of a truth, 

Good Cromwell, you are ever Avelcome here. 

Crom. I thought so, and I came : — especially 

Mil. With news ? 

Crom. From Ireland. Ulster's all ablaze ! 

The forts are captured ! Connaught, Leinster, revel 
In massacre ! The Counties of the Pale, 
Arrayed to quell the insurrection — join it I 
Already twenty thousand of our brethren 
Are slain ! 

3Iil. But of the King? 

Crom. Ay, of the King I Well said ! 

Have I not told you horrors ? 

Mil. Too, too many ; 

Save that, at last, they may arouse our England I 

Crom. They shall I From Parliament I'll thunder them. 
Round all the sea-girt coast ! But what — what think you ? 
What name for him who leads this mad rebellion ? 
'Tis England's King I 

Mit> The King ? Can this be proved ? 

Crom. It can : and is I 

Mil. Then is there cause to fear ! No life is safe ! 



18 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT 

Woe to the man who dares uplift his voice 
For England's Constitution and her Church ! 
But now we see our enemy. Forewarned, 
'Tis our own fault if not foreweaponed, too ! 

Crom. I watch for that ! 

With girded loins, and burning lamps, I watch ! 
And to this end now do I come to you. 
What of the youth, Ardenne ? 

Mil. Right well of him. 

I kept my messenger on guard, who found him, 
To-day, the very hour of his arrival ; 
Gave him the letters 

Crom. Answered he at all ? 

Mil. Read the reply. {Giving Cromwell a letter.) 

Crom. {Reading, and speaking aloud at times.) 
We wrestled with the Lord ; 
Yea, with the Lord in prayer. I tell you truth, 
I do profess ; it came unto our minds 
As with an audible and potent voice : 
' Call to your aid the man — even the youth — 
Edgar Ardenne ! ' He answers : " Here am I ! " 

Mil. 'Twas well our offer had no bribery in 't, 
Nor aught of doubt, nor word of one condition ! 
This do I know : he is a worshipper 
Of wisdom, truth, and liberty ! To these, 
Let him once see the way, he will not fail, 
Though at the price of all he holds most dear. 
To follow it ! 

Crom. Why came he not to-day ? 

Mil. I know not. Still, 

There is good reason. He will surely come. 

Crom. I do begin to doubt him. Let him not, 
In promises, take Charles for an example — 
His Majesty, the Liar ! 

Mil. Be assured. 

Enter Edgar. 
Edgar. Milton ! 



SCENE ir.] OLIVER CROBiWELL. 19 

3fil. Ardenne ! Most welcome home I My friend, 
Oliver Cromwell. 

Edgar. {Aside. — Mabel's prophecy !) 

(To Cromwell.) Sir, I rejoice to meet you. I have heard, 
Even in a single day, my first in England, 
The story of your life. 

Crom. A simple story. 

Nor worth the telling. In the hands of Him, 
Whom I would serve, I am a blade of grass, 
But if it be His will to give me strength, 
Yea, as the warrior's spear I may be strong, 
To do His holy bidding. 

Mil. {To Edgar.) Troublous times 
Have darkened England, since I saw you last. 
That moonlight night, more beautiful than ours, 
Musing within the haunted Coliseum, 
Our pensiveness was for the glorious past. 
The old renown of Rome — not England's fall ! 

Crom. The fall of England 1 

Truly it will be so, unless her children 

Eise to the rescue ! England's fall — the World's ! 

Religion, Freedom, have no home but here: 

If here they dwell not, they return to Heaven ! 

Edgar. The news to-day — it went in whispers by me — 
Can it be true — the King? 

Mil. It is too true ! 

Crom. A damned crime ! Too black to think upon t 
A thousand hearts this day will blaze in England, 
At telling of the wrong ! A thousand arms 
Be ready to avenge it ! Insult, first. 
Then persecution, tyranny, and murder 1 
We have no laws, but by his high permission ; 
We have no liberty, save he may grant it ; 
We have no faith, but his, the Lord's Anointed! 
We have — no English blood ! 

Edgar. {Aside. — 0, woe to me, 

That such things are : and Mabel, woe to thee : 
Thou, in thy love, to deem thy love a traitor, 



20 OLIVEI^ CROMWELL. [aCT I. 

To scorn his love, because he loves his honor ! 
And thou, old man, mj poor heart-broken father, 
Deceived in all thy hopes, down to the grave 
Tottering with rapid steps, and leaving me 
Thy heritage, a curse !) 

Mil. Ardenne ! 

Edgar, I listen. 

Mil. Too much unto thyself : To England more ! 
Cromwell ! 

Crom. Pardon me : 
My thoughts were down at Huntingdon. 

Mil. Recall them. 

Cro7n. I try : they circle England ! Nowhere rest ! 

Mil. Band them with all the best of English thoughts. 
And so consult — decide ! To Liberty 
Be thou our Leader ! 
Crom. I, an humble man. 

The weakest of the servants of the Lord ! 

Edgar. Let me be first to say : I follow Cromwell 1 
Enter the Spirit. 

Crom, Beautiful ! Terrible ! Thou comest again ! 
Why dost thou visit me ? 

Mil. ' [To Edgar.) It is a mood 

That doth at times oppress him. In his youth 
Such seasons were. — 

Edgar. Look now ! As one that suffers agony, 
He battles with the unresisting air. 
Gazes on vacancy, and speaks to nothing 1 

Mil. Disturb him not. 

Crom. 0, answer, answer me ! 

It will not I Seel it moves 1 see! see! 'tis still! 
{Grasping Milton.) I told you this had been, and you believed not ! 
Look for yourself I 'Tis there ! But no, no, no ; 
It is not for the touch ! Could I but grasp it — 
I would compel reply : now I entreat I 

Spirit. Cromwell ! 

Crom. A voice ! Or do I dream — 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 21 

Spirit. Hail, Cromwell 1 
A deed invites thee, and thou shalt not fail 1 
Cromwell, the First in England 

Crom. [Eagerly.) Speak ! 

Spirit. All hail I 

Exit Spirit. 

Characters stand grouped ; as the curtain falls, viysteriom and distant 
triumphant music. 

END OP ACT 1. 



ACT II. 

Scene 1. — Apartment in Woodlcigh Manor. Sir Henry and Et-gar seated 
at a table, tvith wine. 

Sir H. Come, Edgar, come ! This gloom will never do ! 
But I can see how sits the wind, mj boy I 
I am not yet so old but 1 remember 
When I was young ; yes, and a gallant youth ., 

As any in the court of good Queen Bess. 

Edgar. I do not doubt it, Sir. 

Sir H. A wreck — a wreck ! 

But there were ladies — of the fairest, too — 
Who kept their smiles for me, in those old times ; 
And, mark it, Edgar, one above them all. 
Whose favor was, indeed, a thing to boast of: — 
Whom, think you, 'twas? 

Edgar. Some years before my birth ! 

Sir H. Egad, you're right ! I'll tell you : 'twas the Queen ! 

Edgar. Elizabeth ! 

Sir H. [Rising.) Heaven bless her Majesty ! 
Come, fill your glass. 'Tis but a simple story, 
Merely an acorn, if I so may say. 
And still, it grew an oak ! You do not drink. 

Edgar. Is't a dry story, Sir ? 

Sir 11. Your wit is good, 



22 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT II. 

That is, 'tis good enough for Parliament, 
But not true coin, to pay your friends withal. 
Listen to me. 

Edgar. Of Queen Elizabeth. 

Sir H. I went with her, one morning, to the " Globe " — 
The theatre so named — to see a play 
Then first to be enacted. 

Edgar, Ha ! the " Globe !" 

'Twas Shakspeare's theatre! 

Sir H. And Shakspeare's self 

An actor in't. It was a tragedy. 
Entitled "Hamlet." Shakspeare played the Ghost. 

Edgar. "Alas, poor Ghost !'' 

Sir H. Ay, so the Courtiers said, 

But I thought otherwise. " What says Ardenne ?" 
Were the Queen's words to me. "Your Majesty, 
I follow not their minds." " How so ?" the Queen. 
" With proper deference," was my reply, 
" Herein the actor so presents the author, 
I do forget them both, and see the Ghost !" 
" I grant you ! said the Queen ;■ and then she smiled ; 
And from that smile, like Summer's, came the fruits, 
The golden fruits, that now do cheer my Winter ! 

Edgar. A royal favor, royally bestowed ! 

Sir H. Howe'er that be, like an old man I wander. 
Here, fill your glass again. I said before. 
The reason of your gloom is evident — ^-- 

Supposing love be reason ! Yes, I mind 
How I was wont to droop at leaving Alice — 
No more of that! 'Tis gone. Now to the point: 
You love, and Mabel will not say you nay. 
My benison on both 1 

Edgar. [Aside. — 0, not for me 
Can be the boon you offer I Not for me !) 

Sir H. Tush ! tush, boy ! None of this ! Now Mabel's yours, 
Wed when you will : the sooner, why, the better. 
You start to-night for Parliament? 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 23 

Edgar. I do — 

Sir H. To toss these rebel roundheads high as heaven ! 
'Fore George, 'twill be a scene I I see them stride 
More boldly to their purpose now, with you, 
With some respectability, their friend : 
Presto ! the ground is mined ! A shock — a cry ! 
The smoke clears off — ha ! ha ! a grand effect ! 
Edgar. I go to do my duty — 
Sir H. 'Tis enough ! 

Edgar. But listen to me, sir I 
Sir H. V faith, I will not ! 

Mabel, perchance, will prove a better listener ! 
And, that you may have opportunity, 
I think, ere Christmas, she will visit London. 
Edgar. Mabel in London ! 

Sir H. What's the wonder there ? 

Edgar. The pleasure, sir. 

Sir H. Both, Edgar, both, my son. 

For London nothing sees so fair as she, 
And nothing half so pleasant ! Yes, of late, 
I've often thought to leave our lonely woods, 
So many gentles of the land are going. 
Lured by long sittings of the Parliament. 
How if, at once, I give you a commission? 
Edgar. I shall be glad to execute it, Sir ! 
Sir H. A trifle more reserve I You speak too freely. 
" Provided" — so, and so, — were Parliamentary I 
Edgar. I thought 'twas Parliamentary to promise! 
Sir H. Why, so it is — and then again, 'tis not ! 
Choose the right time for each ; but promise now 
To find a fitting mansion in the city, 
See it well furnished — write me when 'tis done — 
And meet your sweetheart and Sir Henry there, 
Who will not keep you waiting. 

Edgar. Sir, I promise. 

Sir H. Answered with gravity, but rather more 
Than the occasion needs. Are you not glad ? 



24 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT II. 

The young men of to-day are quite too serious ; 

It was not thus some sixty years ago : ' 

I would have danced, once, to have heard such news ! 

Edgar. Not on the day of an election, Sir, 
With such a load of honor on your back ! 

Sir H. 'Fore George, your pardon ! I forgot your honor ! 

Edgar. (Aside. — That must not /forget I — 
What is inevitable, tortures more 
With more delay 1 I am resolved:) Dear father, — 

Sir II. '' Dear Mabel ! " is the word ! For, look you. Sir ! 
Dear Mabel comes I 

Edgar. 0, how can I repay — 

(Embracing Sir Henry.) 

Sir H. By loving her, 
Who is more fitting object for these raptures 
Than an old weather-beaten trunk like me 1 



Exit. 



Edgar. Once wedded — and no diflference of opinion 
May part us more ! — and yet 'tis sordid — base ! 
Mabel shall not despise me 1 

E7iter Mabel. 

Mah. Heard I not 

Sir Henry's voice? 

Edgar. 'Tis but a moment since 

He left me. 

Mah. I will seek him. 

Edgar. Presently. 

Mabel, your hand ! Even as it lies in mine, 
But not so tremblingly, I'd have it rest 
Through all life's journey ! Shall it not be so 1r— 
I am oppressed I I cannot breathe I I see 
Horrors unheard of! Blood is on our doors ! — 

Mah. What is the matter, Edgar? Come, be seated : 
You are not well 1 

Edgar. I am — or shall be, soon : 

'Tis but a passing faintuess — only — 

Mah. Cromwell ! 



SCENE I 



.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 25 



(Edgar starts.) 
Is there such terror in his very name, 
To pale a soldier's cheek? 

Edgar. Such glory, Mabel, 

To bid it glow like that of fiery Mars ! 

ilah. Then you have met him ? 

Edgar. Yes 1 

Mah. And joined your hands — 

Edgar. And mingled hearts — and promised — 

Mab. Promised? What? 

Edgar. Honor and liberty ! 

Mab. The death of Kings ! 

{A pause.) 

Edgar. It may be that I am a timorous dreamer: 
These terrors, painted on the darkening air, 
A breath may move them, and disperse to nought. 
If they be true — I will not shrink away I 

It must be, Mabel ! 

Ere the fierce storm of war may burst upon us, 
Be mine, for weal and woe— for Earth and Heaven 1 

Mab, [Aside. — It is, then, as I dreaded !) All my hopes — 
You cannot doubt it, Edgar — -all — have been — 
To know myself your wife — • 

Edgar. 0, thanks, dear love f 

Mab. But now — but now — 'tis anguish, and despair 1 

Edgar. Mabel 1 

Mab. Let me say on ! I love you not the less — 

Farewell ! 

Edgar. Recall that word ! Remember, Mabel, 
Two hearts are in my voice ! — My own — my father's ! 

Mab. Ah, this will wound him grievously ! I stay I 
The old man's friendless sorrow I will share, 
Lest it grow deadlier ! My place is chosen I 
I may not join you in the awful battle, 
But here will be your shield ! 

Edgar. You torture me | 

Mab. I would protect you ! 

8 



26 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT U. 



Edgar. Come, then, to my heart ! 

Where should my shield be, but upon my heart ! 
Come, and I am invincible ! 

Mah. No ! no ! 

I ara a poor, weak girl, whose nature is, 
Whose duty and whose glory is — obedience \ 
I argue not, to move your fixed judgment ? 
Respect my own I The sapling to the blast 
Bends down, indeed, but when 'tis overblown 
Rises again, and stands no less erect 
Than the proud oak, that yielded not an inch f 

Edgar. I never loved nntil this hour of sadness I 
And if ray love meet not return of love, 
My heart, that is so strangely throbbing now, 
Must soon be still forever ! 

Mab. Said I not 

I loved you, Edgar? 

[A pause.) 

Edgar. Is there, then, no hope ? 

Must I go forth to walk the world in darkness ? 
Am I so poor, a peasant's pride may mock me? — 
Rich in a smile — a word 1 

Mab. There is one hope ! 

Edgar. 0, haste to tell me ! 

Mab. If this wild storm pass by 

If the green homes of England grow not red 
With England's wasted life 

{A pause.) 
Edgar, Mabel, one kiss — 

One kiss, my own, lost Mabel ! 

[She falls upon his breast j and flings her arms round his neck.) 
Enter Sir Henry. 
Sir If. (Aside. — Ha ! ha ! 'Fore George ! but that is well, indeed ! 
I would I had their picture painted so ! 
Yes, and they keep the attitude, good sooth, 
Quite long enough to please the dullest artist !) 
Children, may Heaven bless you I — 



SCENE 11. OLIVER CROMWELL, 



27 



Tears? tears? And on a soldier's cheek ! 'Fore George, 

Your happiness has made a fool of you 1 

Let not those iron men, the Puritans, 

Hear aught of this ! 'T would ruin your first speech ! 

(Aside. — Poor boy, I pity him !) I give you joy, 

But also come to take 't away again : 

Your horse is ready. 

Mah, (To Edgar.) Must you go so soon? 

Sir K So soon? You little witch ! you've kept him waiting 
An hour beyond his time 1 Now " short and sweet" 
"Was lovers' motto in my roving days I 
So, Sir, farewell ! — 

Mabel, we spend the holidays in London, 
Where, for a week, you may rehearse this scene, 
Till, enter Friar! And Romeo and Juliet 
Doze by the chimney-side as man and wife ! 
Now, dry your tears, take kisses, and adieus ; 
Be quick! I've letters, and I long for news! 

(Edgar and Mabel embrace tenderly. Then exeunt Sir Henry and 
Mabel, R.^ anc? Edgar, L. 

Scene 2. Grand Saloon in the Palace of Whitehall. Lord Digby, 
Queen Henrietta, and Ladies. Some at side tables engaged with chess. 
Music. Julie dancing. This being finished, she courtsies before the 
Queen, and waits her cominands. 

Dig. Well done, i'faith ! She looks and moves like Venus 

If Venus danced ? How was't, your Majesty? 
When, rising radiant from the embracing sea, 
Her delicate feet first touched the blooming shore — 
So young — so fresh — so beautiful — so happy — 
She must have danced ! How was't, your Majesty ? 
Queen. What is't to you, if Venus danced or no ? 
Dig. Why — nothing. 
Queen. There's the end on't ! 

Dig. End of nothing ? 

May Heaven forbid ! 'Tis nothing shapes our speech, 
Makes the day busy, circles sleep at night, 
Yea, the round world is nought— and nought is nothing ! 



28 OLIVER CROMWELL. [acT II. 

Queen. You have made something of it, good my lord. 

Diff. ( Whispers. — Even as your Majesty, by love, made me I) 

Queen. Presume not on my love 1 

Dig. Who would presume 

On happiness ? The thoughts of happiness 
Are gentle, and admit no haughty guest 1 

Queen. If, then, you hold my love in such regard, 
Why look beyond it ? 

Diff. I ? beyond it ? 

Queen. You ! 

My latest importation, here, from France, 
Julie, the dancing-girl, is much admired!- 
A Venus, truly 1 

Diff. Did I say, a Venus ? 

Queen. Dare you to mock me thus I Come hither, girl I 
Our fair Lord Digby was a traveler once. 
And ventured from our Kingdom even to France, 
And is a solemn judge of courtly dancing. 
And says — Speak yoM, my lord — or make me false! 

Diff. {Aside.— The devil did it !— 
Nothing remains but trip the dancer's toes. 
And pet the Lioness some other time !) 
I then was thinking, not so much of her. 
As of a dancer whom I saw in France — 

Queen. — (Aside. Yes, of a dancer whom he saw in France !) 

Diff. Recalled to memory by — I scarcely know — 
Some chance resemblance — by a look, or step — ■ 
So faint, that, seeing both, 'twould seem absurd — 
Like a poor candle to a conflagration ! 

Queen. Then I mistook, and you made light of her ! 

Diff. Most excellent, i'faith I I cry you mercy 1 

Queen. Still 

She whom your noble judgment disapproves 

Must be unworthy favor. {To Julie. — You may go !) 

Diff. Pardon, my Queen 1 — 

Queen. I will not hear a word 1 

[Crosses to Ladies at table.) 

Dig. (Aside. — Was ever woman of such jealous mood ! 



SCENE II.] OLIVER CROMWELL* 29 

Was ever dancing-girl SO beautiful! 
I will not lose my Most Magnificent ! 
No, nor the tripping Venus ! Julie ! Julie !) 

(Overtakes Julie, and ivhispers a few words. Exit Julie.) 

Enter Page, throwing open the centre doors. 

Page. The King ! 

Enter Kino Charles, pacing the room. 

King. Undutiful, disloyal varlets ! 

Queen. What is the matter, Charles ? 

King. Rebellious knaves ! 

To deal thus with their Sovereign ! 

Queen. Who, my lord ? 

King. To me ! to me a message ! This I tell you : 
Have they their will, I may be called n, King, 
Be served upon the knee — Avith bending head — 
But shall be less a master — even my own — 
Than the most lowly gentleman in England ! 
So shall it never be ! 

Queen. Why, what is all this raving ? Who has vexed you ? 
I cannot understand ! 

King. Indeed I Why should you ? 

Queen. I am the wife of Charles, and England's Queen. 
Your heart and hand have given me empire, both ; 
Your voice will not refuse the confirmation? 

King. Pardon my anger — there is cause for it — 
But trust my love — there's also cause for that I 

(Caressing her.) 

Dig. (Aside. — Now could I preach a sermon, all on Faith t 
How beautiful is Faith I How kind is Faith ! 
Believing most the most impossible !) 

King. (To Queen.) Fll tell you, then. I sent to Parliament, 
Demanding of its members two or three, 
On charge of treason; 

And have received, not prompt obedience back, 
But — mark the word ! — a message 1 

Queen. Is it so ! 

And is it possible that you, the heir 
Of mighty Sovereigns — mightier King than they — 
Will thus be braved, defied, and trampled on, 



30 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT II. 

By such a scum of low and scurvy fellows, 
This Parliament! — 

That you will see the jewels of your Crown 
Plucked in a heap, to deck the fronts ot fools — 
Your sceptre wrested from your baby hand, 
Without a struggle ! U^'retched that I am ! 
Or ere this day, would I had stayed in France; 
My own, chivalric, beautiful, proud France, 
Or that I had been wedded to a Man ! 

Kinff. Madam, go to I 
Dare not impugn our energy and courage ! 
England and you shall know, full speedily, 
Charles Stuart brooks not insolence at home, 
Nor usurpation of his rights abroad ! 

Dig. Well said, my Sovereign I 

Queen. \^To King.] In this most noble wrath, I recognize 
The crowned soul ! Now do I know, indeed, 
Forth by the beard these villains shall be drawn ! 
Do it; or look not on my face again I 

King. Brave girl ! brave girl ! And beautiful as brave! 

[ With an arm round her waist, leads her to a sofa, and sits beside her, 
fondhj.l 

The centre doors are again thrown open. 

Page. Sir Henry Ardenne ! 

King. (Starting up.) Ardenne ! 
X Queen. Your ancient friend. 

King. M}^ new-discovered foe ! 

Dig. Sir Henry, may it please your Majesty, 
Hath, from old time, a loyal servant been, 
And doubtless comes to offer 

King. Silence, fool ! 

Qveen. [^To King.] My lord, you were not wont to be so rude! 

King. Nor fools so daring ! 

Dig. \ Aside. — "Who has a wife, and cannot keep a wife, 
Is the King-fool, I wot, of mortal life 1"] 

King. Sir Heary hath a son — in Parliament ! 

Queen. Then you another friend, where friends are wanted. 
Eider Sir Henry and Mabel. 



SCENE II.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 31 

Sir If. I greet your Majesties, with loyal heart ! 
True, I am old, but I have served Queen Bess, 
And own a son, whose heart, as good as mine, 
And stronger arm, are yours, I warrant me 1 

Kinff. You have a son 1 

Sir JI. Yes, and a daughter, too ! 

{Introducing Mabel.) 

King. You have a son 1 

Sir H. Lately returned from Italy. John Milton 
Was his companion there — a learned man. 
Discreet and worthy. 

King Excellent discretion 1 

To plot with fanatics against my throne I — 
And worthy, too I 

A poet I Culler of fantastic rhymes, 
To cheat the silly hearts of sylvan swains. 
With " loves " and '' doves ! " His immortality • 

May chance be born before his natural death ! 
So much for his companion when abroad : 
What friend hath he in England? 

Sir II. Sooth, I know not. 

King. I say 'tis false I He scarcely landed here 
When he was sworn in friendship — Sir, what think you ? 
With my sworn enemy — with Cromwell ! 

Sir II. No ! 

Mah. {Aside. — Edgar is lost ! ) 

Sir II. I understand it all ! 

Ah ! 'tis a cunning play ! There's sport afoot 1 
I could not hide me, like a dull-eyed owl, 
But followed Edgar, at his very heels. 
To share the grand surprise I 

King. {Aside. — And so you shall !) 
I will, mj.self, to-day, to Parliament, 
And learn the virtue of a Monarch's presence ! 
What 1 shall the traitors disobey me now ! 
(MABEii seems faint.) 

Sir II. Are you not well, my daughter ? 

Mab. Yes — 0, ved — 



32 OLIVER CR03IWELL. [aCT II. 

'Tis nothing ! [Recovering.) 

Queen. Let her come and sit by me. 

Mab. I {liank your Majesty. The air 

{Retiring to a windaxo. Lord Digby hastens to open it, and re- 
mains in conversation with Mabel, unicilling on her part.) 

Sir H. [To King.) Edgar is loyal — every atom loyal — 
And feigns your foe to better prove your friend. 
Wait but a little while : these Puritans, 
By Edgar's art, will cower and slink away. 
And never more be seen 1 My knightly honor 
That what I speak is true. 

King. It may be so: 

Heaven grant it! Yet, this very day, his deeds 
Were full of traitorous daring ! 

Sir H. Seemingly : 

Wait for the issue ! 

King. (Aside. — I will hurry it !) 

Mab. (Aside. — 1 doubt the King ; and doubt shall make me sure ! 
What will not love, yea, even hopeless love, 
To shield its love ! I may, will save him yet ! 
For whom ? It was not love that saidr— " for whom ? "} 

Sir H. (To the King.) I will not more detain your Majesty; 
For I have seen, for long, the cares of State, 
And know how dearer than to labor's brow 
Rest is to that that wears the heavy Crown I 
Therefore, to both, farewell! forewell to all ! 

(Exeunt Sir Henry and Mabel.) 

King. Dotage and young simplicity ! 
(Shouts heard.) 

What noise? 

Dig. (At window.) — Friends of your Majesty are passing by, 
Toward Saint Stephen's — some on horse — on foot : 
The people shout their approbation. 

(Other shouts.) 

King. Now ? 

Dig. I grieve to say, the mob is cheering Cromwell. 
Lenthall is with him — Holli^ — Pym — Ardenne — 



SCENE III.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 33 

And others of the Commons. 

King, Traitors, all 1 

These fools would shout them at the block-^and shall I 

Dig. They go, attended, to the Parliament, 
Each or with two or three well-armed retainers. 

King. What 1 They will give us battle? I will go 
Attended, tool Quick ! Summon forth my guard I 

{Exit Dig BY.) 
(King walks the apartment^ impatiently.) 

Queen. I prithee, do not go I 

King. " I prithee, do not !" 

Woman I You taunted me with cowardice I 
Me ! By Saint Paul I but I will show the world 
Charles Stuart wears a Crown, and bears a heart 
That shall defend it gloriously I Away I 
The iron's hot : I'll strike without delay ! 

[Exit, followed by the others.) 

Scene 3. Before the Parliament House. 
Enter Cromwell and Edgar. 

Crom. And you against us, in our strait and peril ! 

Edgar. I know not, Master Cromwell, what you mean. 

Crom. You know not what I mean ? Is it no strait, 
No peril, that the King should hither come. 
With his accursed Cavaliers — their swords 
New-whetted, and their hellish hearts afire. 
To shed the blood o' the Saints? Should dare come hither, 
Hither, within these ancient-honored walls ! 

Edgar. Will he do this ? 

Crom. What will he not, if we, 

The watchers on the house-top, yea I the tower. 
Give not to men the note of coming woe, 
Sound not the trumpet over all the land ! 
Yeal will he come, and that right speedily ! 
Yea ! will he come, and if our hearts be weak. 
And if our arms unstrung, yea I will he come, 
And trample down the liberties of England ! 

Edgar. Never I — 



S4 OLfViifi CROMWELL. [Act It. 

Never, while I, if none beside, have svrord, 
And hand to wield it 1 

Orom. Is it so ? Would you 

Draw forth the carnal sword ? 

Edgar. To shield these walls, 

These holy walls of England*s free debate, 
From lawless and despotic violence I 
Jt is our right, our duty, to consult, 
tlntramelled, in the office of our trUst, 
Add we should die for 't I 

Crom. We will live for that, 

Yea I even if we die— eternally ! 
Hold fast thy good resolve! I'll wake the rest 
To a like sense. When we assemble next, 
Be in thy place; then call me fool and liar, 
An' great things be not born of what I do ! 

Exit into the House, 

(Edgar stands in deep thought.) 

Enter Mabel. 

Mab. [Aside. — Cromwell ! The serpent of my Paradise ! 
And he deceived already !) Edgar I Edgar ! 

Edgar. Thou ? and alone? The times are perilous ^ 

Mab. Therefore am I abroad — therefore alone. 
The King is coming to the Parliament 
With armed men ! — 
Quick with my warning to the rest I Farewell ! Exit, 

Edgar. Heroic heart I — But thou, thou misnamed Kingl 
Thou wolf! thou Heaven-accursed destroying devil! 
We know thee now : Ye winds, ye tireless winds, 
I toss to ye my loyalty 1 Go bear it. 
One to the other, round the stormy world, 
Hurl it about, and rend, and scatter it. 
Even its dust, till none may find it more! 

Exit into House. 

Scene 4. The Parliament Chamber. Cromwell, Edgar, Lenthall, 
[Speaker^) Hollis, Pym, and other members, in their places, 

Crom. As it was given unto me in my mind, 
Now, by a private message, 'tis confirmed ; 



SCENE IV.] OLIVER CftOMWELL* 35 

This day, Charles Stuart, with his soldier-slaves, 
Will enter Parliament — I say he will — 
To seize by force the "traitors" in our midst! 
Speak! Shall he have them ? 

Several 3fembers. Never ! never ! 

Crom. Yea ! We are English still ! We still are fr&e ! 

Lent. If they be absent, when he come — these "traitors" — 
The fearful consequence may be averted, 
Which must arise, else: all of us are armed, 
And doubtless all resolved on liberty. 

Crom. Let them withdraw, then, straightway, to the city, 
Until this tyranny be overpast. 

[Aside. — The hour will strike anon !] 

Sev. Mem. Withdraw ! withdraw ! 

After solicitation, exeunt Edgar, Hollis, chcTPym. The tramp of sol- 
diers and clink of steel heard without, then the word " Halt!'' Tfie door 
is thrown open, discovering the King, toith drawn sword, at the head of 
his Guard. Some members start to their feet, partly drawing their ra- 
piers, but, at a sign from the Speaker, resume their places, still with 
looks of indignation . ) 

King. {To Guard.) Enter not, any of ye, on your lives ! 

[He strides along the hall, deliberately gazing on the face of each mem- 
ber, who returns the gaze. ^\ Arrived at Cromwell, Cromwell rises, and 
looks steadily at the King, who first seeks to avoid him, then meets him 
with anger and pride, Cromwell with sarcastic, bitter and determined 
triumph — all the rest intently observing these. Presently the King's as- 
pect quails. He passes on, with downcast eyes, to the chair. Cromwell 
looks loftily around the hall, and resumes his seat. The Speaker ad- 
vances to meet the King, who ascends the platform, and stands awhile sur- 
veying the House.) 

King. Gentlemen of the Commons, I am sorry 
For this my cause of coming now to you. 
On yesterday T sent a sergeant hither, 
Demanding some, by me, accused of treason : 
And not obedience — I received a message ! 
Never did King of England more revere 
Your privilege than I do — yes, and shall — 



36 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT II. 

Yet treason hath no privilege ! I must, 
And will — where'er the traitors Inrk— demand them I 
Ho ! I say, Master Hollis I Master Pym 1 
Ardenne ! 

(A confused and angry murmur among the Guard, with brandishing 
of weapons.) 

No answer I Then, Sir, [To Speaker) answer you ! 
Be any of these men here present? 

(Lenthall pauses; then bowing courteously — ) 

Lent. Sir, 

I have no eyes to see, nor tongue to speak, 
Save as this House, whose servant I am sworn, 
Shall order me. 

King. {Passionately.) Hal Sir! {Checking himself .) I do believe 
My eyes are to the full as good as yours, 
And I do see my birds are flown. But this — 
I tell ye this, and look ye to it well ! — 
I hold this House to send them all to me ! 
Failing of which, I shall myself go seek them ! 
Their treason is most foul, and you shall thank me, 
Yes, all of jou, that I discover it 1 
On a King's word, moreover, I assure you. 
Never did I mean aught of violence. 
Fair trial shall they have ; I meant not other I 
■ Crom. {Aside, to those near him. 
Look to the door I " Fair trial," say you so I 
A ruffian jury 1 Partisans and pistols !) 

{The King descends, quickening his pace, his looks sadly bent upon the 
floor. Member after Member starts up, as he passes, tt-ith angry brow 
and clinched hand. Before Cjiomwell, the King raises hit visage. 
Ceomwell starts to his feet.) 

Crom. Privilege ! 

Sev. Mem. Privilege ! Privilege 1 

{Guard eagerly press forward, ready for action. One of them ex- 
claims: " He dares not !" In the general confusion, the King gains the 
door.) 

END OF ACT II. 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 37 

ACT III. 

Scene 1. — Apartment at Woodleigh 3Ia7ior. Sir Henry standing at a 
table, on which are writing materials and scrolls of parchment, one with 
several broad seals. Mabel kneeling at his feet. Sexby at a little dis 
tance^ mending his pen. Joseph standing by the door. 

Mab. No ! no ! I will not rise ! 

0, jou were wont to be both just and generous, 
Calm in your youth, as 1 have heard them tell, 
And temperate ! Be, then, yourself, my father, 
Be, then, yourself, nor sully by this deed 
A whole long life of wisdom and of honor ! 

Sir 11. [Raising her.) It may not bel Our race hath now run OQt f; 
The lands that have been subject to ray name 
For centuries, shall never know it more ! 

Mab. Say not so, father I 

Sir H. Would — 0, would to Heaven,. 

His corpse had mouldered on some foreign field, 
His bones been buried in the secret sea — 
That he had died by any death — had lived 
Whatever life of want, pain, wretchedness ! 
Better —far better, so to mourn for him, 

Than to have seen him thus — a damned blot ! ■- 

A traitor to his King — his Country's foe — 

A curse to him from whom he drew his being \ 

No I plead to me no more ; 

Never a traitor — "hypocrite and traitor — 

Shall aught of me inherit I 

Sex. {Advancin,g.)-^Yea,, Sir Henry, 
You have the right— himself has given it you — 
By his own act of treason. 

Sir II. Silence, knave I 

Sex. [Aside.— ^^ Knave !" He called me " Knave t" " 
And yet it cannot be ; being a term 
Of common application. — 
If actionable, it had so been proved 
By learned men, ere now. No precedent ; 

4 



38 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT III. 

And so, it is not so !) 

Sir H. I 'have the right 

To sunder this entail — it shall be sundered 
Or ere the sunset ! lie hath in my heart 
No corner — not a jot of mine affections ! 

(Joseph advances, imploringly.) 
Himself hath cut his path, and, though he rue it, 
By that path must he travel to the end — 
Dishonored — outcast — disinherited — 
Accur 

Mab. No! curse him not! or never taste 
Of peace again ! Father, curse not your son — 
Your first-born and your only ! — 
Sinner, curse not your fellow ! Christian, curse not 
A soul whose hopes are even as your own ! 
Curse not, but pray ! Not for your erring child. 
Though much he errs, but for your sinful self! 
" Vengeance is mine !" 0, pray for penitence ! 

Sir H. {Affected.) — So far, at least, you have the better side ; 
'Tis neither Christian-like to curse, nor manly. 
But to this gear, good Master Sexby. 

Sex. Yes, Sir, 

I'm ready, as I always am. Sir Henry^ 
To do your honor's bidding. 

Sir 11. Well. This deed, 

You tell rae, is complete and firm in all. 

Sex. A lion could not break it, nor a mouse 
Find the least hole to creep through. Sir, my deeds, 
Like Buff the Boxer, everybody knows I 
And as for this, to wit, the present one. 
Most ignorant am I of my profession, 
An' it be not as strong as law can make it ! 
Master Ardenne, being last of the entail, 
And, by His Majesty, at Oxford now. 
Proclaimed a traitor, scarcely could inherit. 
Even without this deed of settlement 
On Mistress Mabel and her heirs 



SCENE 1.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 39 

Mab. On me I 

Never will I receive the smallest share- 
Though I should perish of starvation — never I 
And heirs— what tell you me of heirs? Would I, 
1, his affianced bride !-— 
Deign to bestow myself on his inferior — 
And who, that's human, is not his inferior? 
No, no ! Your testament is nothing worth : 
I will die heirless, or the wife of Edgar ! 
Then what avail your subtleties of law ? 
I spurn their false and fickle toils before me. 
As the free hawk would rive with scornful wing 
The trammels of the spider's air-spun web I 

Sir II. Peace ! for your fame's sake, peace! degenerate girl ! 
Would you disclose to these your woeful weakness 

Mab. To these ? To every dweller of the earth, 
Would I avow the strength, the constancy, 
The immortality of this my love ! 

Weakness ? 

I tell 3^ou that I am no whit less strong — 
Nay, ten times stronger than yourself — in faith. 
In loyalty, in conscience, in resolve ! 
I do adore him, even the more for this. 
His constancy to what he deems the right, 
When, all the while, each fibre of his heart 
Is tugging him toward the other cause — 
When loss of name, fame, fortune, happiness, 
Must follow his devotion != — 
Yet never will I wed him while he wields 
A rebel blade, or prompts a rebel council — 
Never, unless 

i^A pause.) 

Your madness drive me to it! 
My conscience doth recoil. Now let your lands 
Descend to him who justly should inherit, 
And sooner will I die than marry him ! 
But let me have them — 



40 



OLIVfik CROMWELL. [aCT III. 



And instantly will I make restitution 

To the true owner j by what means I may — 

The sacrifice of conscience — yea, myself i 

Sir H. Nay, but you will not ! Better, b'etief, Mabel, 
I read your heart than you, yotifself, can fead it! 

Mah. And wherefore not? Have I not now, for conscience, 
Cast to the earth the highest heart that ever 
Did beat for woman ? Have I not abandoned^ 
For loyalty — a sense, perchance, mistaken — • 
My every hope of happiness on earth? 

[Enter Edgar, rernaining at the. door.) 
But since you are not won by any pleading", 

Then hear me swear, and also hear me Thou 

Edgar. [Advancing.) Swear not, Mabel, if you love me ! 
Swear not in my behalf — nor thwart my father. 
In good time have I come. This purpose reached me. 
Ere you beheld my presence — 

Sir H. Wherefore, traitor, 

Traitor and villain ! have you thus presumed 
To desecrate these honorable halls ? 
Have you come sword in hand — good sooth, and leading 
Your canting hypocrites, who march to psalm-tunes ? 
What seek you here ? To spoil, and slay, and steal? 
Or have you come, forsooth, with oily words 
And a GoD-fearing countenance, to preach 
To the benighted poor old man his error, 
That he, too, may unsheath the sword of Gideon, 
And go down with the chosen of the Lord 
To strive against the Philistines in Gigal! 
Such is the style of your new comrades — you 
Can mouth it with the best, I warrant me I 
Can you not preach and pray? and quote the Scriptures 
To justify — the doings of the devil ? 

Edgar. For none of these things have I come, my father, 
Not yet for aught that may offend or grieve you. 

(Sir Henry makes a gesture ofangi'y impatience.) 
Hear me a little while, and I will cease 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 41 

To pain you with my presence. 

Sir 11. Be it, then, 

A little while, if be it must at all — 

And I suppose it mvst^ for doubtless you 

Have brought five hundred of your fighting Saints 

To back you, else you had not ventured hither ! 

Be brief, for even now I look to see 

The roof-tree of my father's house fall in, 

To crush the wretch that brought, on all it shelters. 

Eternal infamy ! ^ 

Edgar. No soldier, follower, 

No, nor a groom — I pray you credit me — 
Is with me, nor within ten miles of Woodleigh. 
Alone I come, once more to say adieu, 
And crave — what I have nothing done to forfeit — 
A fathei-'s blessing ! 

Sir II. [Motioning him to the- casement.) Look you, Sir! Behold 
Yonder fair company of horsemen. What — 
Can you remember it? — what banner strikes 
The air above them ? 

Edgar. That, Sir, of our house. 

Sir II. Yes, it is old, and battle-worn, and torn 
With many wounds. It scarce were miracle 
If every wound did gush with blood to-day j 
The murderer of the honor of our house 
Daring to stand before it I On, Sir, on ! 
The time is pressing, and my charger stamps, 
Impatient — and I do not ride with you ! 

(To J Q&EPQ.) Geth^nce, and fetch us lights; it hath grown dark 
Betimes. Yes, dark betimes! \^Exit Joseph.} 

Edgar. I did hope, Sir, 

That your resentment had so far abated 

You might endure my visit. 

To oflFer you the reasons for my conduct 
Were, in your present mood, of no avail. 
Suffice it, therefore, to inform you this : 
Much may I lose, and nothing can I gain ; 



42 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT III. 

That neither power, nor place, nor bribe of love, 
Nor proffered rank, nor jet the baser meed 
Of gold, hath tempted me; that neither gift 
Nor guerdon will reward my services. 
Nought save the quiet of an innocent heart, 
And His most higli approval, who, alone. 
Creating, can interpret it ! Enough. 

{Ee-enter Joseph, with lights.) 
This deed, which noAV but waits your signature, 
Deprives me of my heritage. {To Sexby. — My father, 
Being the last in the oitail, save myself, 
And I proclaimed a traitor, hath, you deem it, 
The power to alienate this property ?) 

Sex. If that the law mean what I think it means ; 
And 'tis a wondrous attribute of law 
Sometimes to mean what few would think it means — 

Edgar. Hold ! interrupt me not : — then say he hath — 
Provided that the party to the which 
I am indebted for my " traitor " title 
Shall, in the end, come off victorious ! 
If not, your deed is nothing. 

Sir H, So, a trick ! 

'Tis a far hope to look to ! 

Edgar. Sir, think not 

I would inherit thus I Annul this deed, 
And I will join with you to break the entail 
Forever I Then, if King or Commons win, 
You shall, alone, be master of your wealth. 
Freely, if all were mine, I'd barter all. 
For one short word — the blessing of my father! 

Sir H. I take you at your proffer. Sign and seal 
This blank ; 'tis likely we shall meet no more ; 
And here I pledge to you my knightly honor 
It shall be so applied as you have said. 

(Edgar signs. Sir Henry jt?<7A-5e« the parchments to Sbxby.) 
Prepare ihh parchment. 
Sex^ Sir, with all good haste ! 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 43 

{The7i, regarding the unsigned instriunent,) 
0, what a noble deed was here undone ! (Exit.) 

Edgar. [Aside. — 'Tis over. Now, forever, home, farewell ! 
These venerable halls, time-haunted, glorious. 
Where the high virtues of my ancestry- 
Made the earth proud that bore them — 0, farewell ! 
And ye, green parks, and many-rustling woods, 
Dear to my childhood, dear to love's bright hours, 
Farewell I My heart was rooted here : 'tis torn 
Fiercely away, and cast upon the flood, 
Never to rest, never to anchor more!) 
Father, your blessing 1 [Kneels.) 

Sir H. Blessing to a rebel, 

A hypocrite, a traitor ! — 

Not though my life should pay for ray refusal ! 
Be grateful that I curse you not ! be grateful. 
Not unto me, but yon pale, suffering girl, 
Whom your f^ilse villainy hath blighted ! She 
Alone withholds it I — Hence I Why tarry you ? 
Begone, an outcast from my home forever I 

(Mabel sinks on the floor.) 
Edgar. [To Mabel, raising her.) — 
Thou art my angel still! In all my woe, 
Thy voice, thy heart, are for me ! Farewell, Mabel I 
There may be happier days for both of us ! [Kisses her.) 
And thou, my father ! Heaven rain blessings on thee I 
May'st thou n'er know the fiercer flame than fire 
That burns within my breast! Farewell ! farewell I 

[Exit. 
[A pause.) 
Sir n. [Faintly.) Edgar, my son — my son ! 
Jos. Ho! Master Edgar! 

Sir H. Gone ! — he is gone ! 

The angry clatter of his horse's hoofs 

Nay, nay ; pursue him not ! 

[Trumpet sounds.) 

The trumpet ! ha 1 



44 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT III. 

Come to your chamber, daughter ! Widowed daughter 1 
Come, come. 

(Assisting her off, aided hy Joseph. Trumpet again.) 
That thrilling sound hath victory in't ! 
Shame shall no longer bend our flying banners ! 
'• God and the King ! " {Exeunt. 

Scene 2. In the Park. Enter Joseph. 
Jos. There ! there they ride I And never vrent more gallant 
Cavaliers a-field ! Sir Henry leads them nobly ! Gone I gone I 
What pity — what pity that Master Edgar rides not with his father — 
Master Edgar, his pride, his hope ! But Sir Henry cursed him not — 
nay, nay, he did not curse him I I could bear anything save that I 

{Exit. 

Scene 3. — Night. Camjt? o/ Cromwell. A flag over his tent — a red 

cross on field of blue. Troopers reclining hy afire, eating or smoking. 

A leathern tankard of ale standing near. A Sentinel walking, ivith 

Bible. 

1st Trooper. Read ! read ! 

2d Trooper. Let Cromwell find him so ! The fields and woods 
around, be the proper pages for a sentinel ! 

3d Trooper. Kay, mind him not, good Evil-shun, but read ! Such 
words do stir the soul within a man ! 

Sent. {Reading by the fire light.) "Lo ! I will tread them in ray 
anger, and trample them in my fury ; and their blood shall be sprinkled 
upon my garments 1 " 

Enter Edgar. 
Who goes there ? Stand and give the word I 

Edgar. " The sword of Levi ! " 

Sent. Pass ! 

Edgar. Is Cromwell in his tent ? 

Sent. Nay, but beyond the outposts; 

Like holy Samuel, wrestling with the Lord : 
Crying unto the Lord for Israel ! 

1st Trooper. Methinks he cometh ! 

2d Trooper. Yea, 'tis surely he ! {To Sentinel.— Hide the book, 
good Evil-shun 1) 



SCENE 111.] OLIVER CROM\VELt. 

Enter Cromwell. 
Crom. {To E gab.) Rig^t glad am I to welcome 70U again! 
We ride together to the fiel4 to-m(*rrow. 
Edgar. KememberWinslejr I 

Crom. Well 1 may remember ! 

I lost my horse — and nearly lost myself! 
That day, your timely rapier saved my life ! 

Edgar Expose it not, I mean, to such wild odds, 
For many lives are in it I 

Crom. Where the Lord 

I,eads, do I follow 1 He will rescue me 
From all mine enemies ! See yonder star, 
Yon large, clear star, brighter than all the pianetsi 
It shone upon my birth. From boyhood up, 
S\iU ^as it varied with wy changing fortunes, 
Now dim, now glorlO'ttS. Look \ it shoots forth Jets 
Of purest light ! No other star doth likewise f 
Truly the Lord shall work great things to-morrow I 
. \$t Trooper. {Aside. — Mark you the General? " Great things to 
morrow I ") 

2d Trooper. I pray that Marston Moor may end them! Truljr 
would I be at home again, with wife and little ones I 

3d Trooper. First win the right to stay m peace at home I 

Edgar. (To CromWeLL.) 
Stars have no influence on the lives of men! 

Crom. Have not?«May not the eternal thus divulge 
A portion of our fates ? May not the Angel 
Who ministers to me for righteousness. 
Yonder preside ? I do believe it, fully ! 

Edgar. 'Tis a mere dream : a fancy — like your Vision 1 

Crom. I saw the Vision I 

(Troopers lisfe7i eagerly.) 
Even as I now see you 1 
As clearly as mine ears receive your doubts, 
So clearly came to me that wondrous voice I 
Nor then alone. First, when I was a boy, 
A w^ayward, headstrong, ill-conditioned school-boy. 
It was a Sabbath night ; I lay awake ; 



46 OLiVEll CROMWELL. [aCT III. 

Plotting i know not v.'hat of morrow-mischief, 

When, suddenly, a strange and thrilling awe 

Stole over me ! A pair of mighty wings, 

It seemed to me, spread forth ! My very soul 

Was chilled ! I would have cried aloud — my voice 

Had deadened into ice ! I would have risen, 

And fled — I could not move ! Yet was I bold 

Beyond my years, and feared nor man nor devil. 

The night was murky darkness — presently, 

A faint and ghastly light did fill the room ! 

My curtains rustled — moved — were draAvn apart — 

A tall and misty shnpe before me stood ! 

I fainted not, though, ague-like, my flesh 

Did quiver — and the cold sweat, like a strand 

Of broken beads, fell fast from off ray brow — 

And my hair bristled, as it were alive ! 

I could have reckoned twenty, while the Shape 

Looked its majestic silence ! Then a voice, 

Deep, slow, of strange and solemn harmony. 

Rolled forth without an effort : '' Thou,'' it said, 

" Thou shalt be First in England P' And 'twas gone ! 

Edgar. Then you believe it ? And the prophecy 
Directs your waking movements ? 

Crom, Wherefore not ? 

The elder Brutus, he who made Rome free, 
Was called the First in Rome ! 

Edgar. (Aside. — It was a spirit — 

The Fiend— Ambition !) 

Beware ! I am not of the antique Roman, 
But did I know, as half I doubt even now, 
This Vision were the damned thirst for power, 
One day to urge your sacriligious hands 
Do violence upon our Country's freedom — 
There is so much of Cassius in my veins. 
That I would strike— yea 1 to your very heart !— 
Ere you should live to realize your dream ! 

[Partly draicing his stvord.) 



SCENE III. OLIVER CROMWELL. 47 

Troopers start forward. 
Crom. (To Troopers. — Away I away!) 

What have I said ? Woe ! woe is me I The flesh 
Truly is weak, but strong, sincere the soul 1 
Well hast thou spoken, friend, and right would'st do, 
If 1 were subject to the Evil One ! 
Woe, woe is me, that so can be mistrusted I 
But Thou, Lord, knowest — Thou beholdest — yea ! — 
Continue me, Tuou Merciful and Mighty I 
Thine instrument, and be Thy Word my lamp I 
Even as I now am, thine, Lord, thy servant ! 

[Bursts into a passion of tears ^ with hysterical sobs.) 
Edgar. [Aside. — 'Tis strange !) 
Crom. [Recovering^ with a shudder.) 

Soh ! Colonel, join your men forthwith i 
Go over once again your roll-call. See 
That all be right for early march. Report 
Your numbers at my tent in one hour's time. 

[Bows slightly, and crosses to Troopers. Exit Edgar.) 
[To Ist Trooper.) Ho I Hezekiah Sin-despise, how fare ye ? 
Deal the knave commissaries righteously? 

1st Trooper. Yea ! General, 'tis honest bread and meat! Wilt thou 
not taste, thyself, and judge how fares the rough-coated soldier? 

%d Trooper. Take, eat! [offering food on a wooden platter.) — Eat, 
drink with us to-night, as we shall fight with thee upon the morrow t 
Crem. Will I not ? 

[Sits, and partakes heartily. Then fills a cup with ale.) 
[To 2d Trooper.) 'Twere evil manners, shared I not with thee, 
Born-again Rumford I 

[Throws part of the contents of cup in the face of 2d Trooper, and drinks 
the rest.) 

\st Trooper. Thou kast it tliere 1 

Zd Trooper. Thou hast it fairly, Born-again ! 

Crom. I know not, truly,. 
Whether this Rumford hatli been born again, 
Either in fle&h or spirit ; but I know 
He is Baptiz.ed-again I Hey, Rumford ? hey ? 



48 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT III. 

(To 1st Trooper. )r— Hand nie a pipe of Trinidado! 

(Takes a few quick puffs, rises, passes behind 3d Trooper, and strikes 
the pipe on the rim of the man^s corskt, the blazing ashes falling down his 
neck.) 

3d Trooper. [Leaping m^.)— Now may the devil 

Crom. Ho ! Swearest thou ? 

(To 1st Trooper.) — Write : Hezekiah Sia-despise, five shillings, 
For swearing. Thou shalt nevermore be known 
As Sin-despise, but Overcome-bj-Sin I 
Our discipline must be preserved : I hate 
The vice of swearing, utterly, yea ! utterly ! 
But, some share of the fault was mine herein, 
And verily I will pay the fine myself. 

(To 3d Trooper.) Tush ! tush ! twist not thyself, man, to and fro, 
Nor grin as though it hurt thee ! — 
Methought my ironsides were proof 'gainst fire, 
As well as steel ! Good rest, and early waking ! 

(Exit into tent. 

1st Trooper. Cromwell! Cromwell! 
2d Trooper. Long life to Cromwell ! 

3d Trooper. The Lord preserve him ! Yea ! for us and England ! 
(They lie dotvn, and sleep.) 
A pause. 
He-enter Cromwell, standing before his tent. 
Crom. Sleep, that dost mock the gilded couch of State, 
And scorn the clutchings of the rich-man's arms, 
How liest thou here, on the cloud-curtained earth, 
Companion of the poor ! 

All grave and stern, 
Like ghosts, the sentinels do stalk their rounds. 
There shall, to-morrow, be another sleep, 
For many — that shall need no sentinel ! 
For whom? The book is sealed, wherein our fate, 
From scene to scene, even to the final act, 
Is written : yet, unread, we follow it ! 
Discordant noises strike the heavy air ; 
The stamp of angry steeds, the clash of arms, 



SCENE II.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 49 

The rumbling wagons o'er the rugged road — ■ 
But hark ! the baitle-hymn of victory ! 

(Sunff without.) 
" Woe uuto them that put their trust 

In the Egyptian's crown — 
His chariots and his horsemen, 

His power and his renown ! " 

[The hymn is foUoxoed by a shouty and that by another, from the oppo^ 
site side.) 

Yea I 

Answer with drunken shouts the voice of faith ! 
Answer, ye persecutors of the Saints! 
The red wine falling from your lifted cups 
Like streams of blood — the blood of innocence, 
Of babes and sucklings ! Murderers ! Ravisher's! 
Revilers of the prophets and the law I 
Feast and carouse 1 Be merry while ye may : 
Thy Kingdom, foolish King ! hath passed away ! 

(Stands, with elevated arm, in a reverie. Edgar enters, approaches 
him, a7id gazes in wofider.) 

END OF ACT III. 



ACT IV. 

Scene 1. A cottage room. A scarlet Dragoon cloak flung over the 
settle, a high-crowned hat of dmtk grey felt, a buff belt, and sword. On the 
table a pair of pistols, a map, a telescope, a Bible, and a leader^ s truncheon. 
Steel armor in a large armed chair. Cromwell discovered, his left arm, 
vjotinded, in a sling. 

Crom. Did'st thou say "King ?" No, no ! not "King !" not "King !" 
The First in England! Have I foiled thee there? 
Get thee behind me, Satan — prince of liars ! 
Tempt me no more ! By the Lord's help, I scorn thee I 

( Walks the apartment. Pauses. ) 
Who saith it was unreal ? Have we not eyes — 
Have we not ears ? and shall we not believe 
What we do see and hear ? A spirit passed 
Before the face of Job, and there was silence, 

5 



50 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT IV. 

And then he heard a voice.— Through her of Endor, 
Did not the evil-minded Saul call up 
The living spirit of the buried prophet? — 
Brutus held converse with a royal shade. 
I, that was written down, ere time began, 
Predestinate to execute His wrath — 
May not I, too, commune with ministers 
That walk the earth at night ? Go to ! go to ! 

A pause. 
•' Cromwell, the First in EnglandP' 

{Crosses the room.) 
And if it had said " King !" — 
Be there not tempters — be there not false prophets ? 
Had it said " King," then had I roused myself I 
Then had I striven with the Evil One, 
That he had fled me ! — To the putting down, 
And not the raising up, of tyrants, came I ! 
Not that to me should kneeling men exclaim. 
" Hail, Monarch I"— 

But that, throughout this goodly realm of England. 
Should innocence and righteousness prevail, 
And peace, and liberty, and truth, forever I 

{Noise without. Challenge of a distant Sentinel : " Who goes 
there ?" It is repeated, nearer. A heavy rap on the door. Cromwbli. 
resumes his studies at the table.) 

Kingsland {without.) — The Captain of'tlie Watch ! 

Crom. Enter the Captain of the Watch 1 
Eiiier Kingsland. 

What now, good Kingsland ? 

How goes it with the host of victory ? 

Kings. Thanks to the Giver of all mercies, well I 
Your wound, I fear me 

Crom. Fear thee not at all. 

'Tis a mere scratch ! I would have given the arm, 
Yea ! my right arm, for such a field as Marston ! 

Kings. 'Twas nobly fought — even by the Cavaliers I 

Crom. Our victory still the nobler 1 Well, to business. 



SCENE 1.] OLIVER CROMWELL. ^l 

Kings. Here is one, without, 
Even from the stronghold of the enemy, 
Seeking to parley with you ! 

Crom. One from York ? 

Admit him speedily 

Kings. Nay, not from York ; 

Nor is it any he. A damsel, truly, 
A damsel, decked with all the comeliness — 
Truly, with all the loveliness of flesh ! 

Crom. Tush ! tell not me of comeliness ! Heaven's truth, 
Kingsland, thou art a fool, 
To rush upon my meditations here : — 
A Jezabel — a painted, false Delilah 1 — 
Cast her forth instantly 1 

Kings. It is not so, 

It is not so, an' you will hear me out. 
Nay, but a maiden of repute. She came 
To speak with Cromwell of the youth, Ardenne. 

Crom. Whom, of a truth, sincerely do I love. 
Admit her. Stay ! And bid them bring in wine, 
And creature comforts. 

(Kingsland opens the door.) 

Kings. Enter ! 

{Enter Mabel, in riding cloak, with broad-leafed straw hat, tieddoion 
upon her cheeks. Cromwell offers her a chair, which she declines.) 

Crom. (7b Kingsland.) Hold yourself aloof : 
Eaves-dropping is a sin. See thou avoid it 1 

(Exit Kingsland.) 

(To Mabel.) The night is chilly, though a Summer night, 
And you have ridden far. I pray be seated. 

(She again declines the chair, but removes her hat and mantle.) 
(Enter Servant with wine, ^c, then Exit.) 
Will you partake of this, our sorry fare ? 
We are not often honored — 

3fab. Nothing ! nothing I 

I have come hither in a fashion men 
Would deem unmaidenly, and women bold — 



52 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT IV. 

Under the shade of uight, and, save with menials, 

Alone 

To you, the foeman of my family, 

My King, my Country ! Casting fear aside, 

Incurring the contempt, the hate — perchance, 

The curse, of those who are most dear to me ! 

Yet am I here, upheld by mine own conscience. 

And firm in my resolve to hinder crime I 

All other means have failed — tears, arguments, 

Entreaties 1 All I I say. Then instantly 

To horse I to horse ! if you would save your friend, 

Edgar Ardenne I 

Crom. Edgar Ardenne 1 

M.ab. A captive, 

And doomed to die at daybreak ! 

Crom. What ! to die ! 

No! for their souls they dare not ! Did they harm 
One hair of him, I would hang fifty up, 
Yea, of their best and noblest, high as Haman ! 

Mah. He may be rescued, if you will it so ! 

(Jrom. How chanced his peril ? 

Mah. In their last retreat. 

Made prisoner by the Cavaliers ! Obey me — 

To-night you save him who would die for you ! 

Despise my warning, and you may, to-morrow, 
Perchance — avenge him ! 

A pause. 

Crom. Who are you, thus bold 
For hia who is the foeman of your tribe ? 

3Iab. It matters not, or who, or what I am : 
It matters only that you do obey me ! 

Crom. Nay, an' I know you not — your motives, too! — 
I stir not, horse nor man I There be enow 
Of dames and daraoiselles — your loyal ladies ! — 
Who deem black fiilsehood angel-looking truth, 
If so they may entrap the instrument, 
Yea, the two-edged sword, of Heaven's high vengeance ! 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. iSS 

Mab. Not so ! not so, hj all my hopes hei*eafter I 
Thou maj'st do ill that good may come of it; 
But I — for thousands such as thou — ^I loould not ! 
Not to destroy, I only aim to save — 
From a most cruel doom to save the young, 
From a most deadly crime to save the old ! 
I am — then know it ; use it as you list — 
Mabel Ardenne ! 

Crom. Ha I Mistress Mabel — \^ it ? 

Adopted daughter of that fierce old Knight, 
Sir Henry ! Most perverse and bloody-minded ! 
Crimson with persecution of the Saints ! 
Truly is this a sure and trusty witness ! 
And so thou would'st preserve the youth — ^a valiant. 
And strong of hand he is, and stout of heart, 
Tender of conscience — ^yea, a shining light I — 
Thou would'st preserve him — and would'st wed with him— • 
Ha ! is it so ? — and win him to the man 
Charles Stuart 1 Have I read your heart ? 

Mab. You h(we not ! 

Not to restore my King his lawful throne, 
Not to restore to England peace and honor, 
Not to be empress of the universe, 
Would I espouse the man whose sad mistake. 
Or, still more sad, whose willful wrong, hath bound him 
With such as thee — a traitor to his monarch, 
His country, and — a hypocrite to God ! 
It is for this that I would have him live, 
That I would have him live — perchance, repent : 
That I would spare the sin of slaying hira 
To his own father ! 

Crom. What I His father ! Speak, 

In Heaven's name, speak ! Thou can'st not mean it so ! 

Mab. Sir Henry's captive — in the very act 
Of saving him — his captive I Doomed by him 
To perish ! 

Crom. Where lie these Cavaliers ? What be their numbecs ? 



54 OLIVER CROMWELL. [acT IV. 

Mab. Promise me, then, that, but to I'escue Atm, 
You will not turn the tidings I may give 
To your o^yn gain, or injury of the King ; 
That you will shed no drop of blood not needful ; 
That, he once safe, you strike no other blow, 
But hasten back, nor note nor vantage take 
For twelve hours' space. 

Crom. Tush — tush ! It may not be ! 
Answer me quickly, where and what their force ? 

Mab. Promise ! 

Crom. Dally not, maiden — dally not, I say ! 
Else be the blood of Edgar all on thee, 
Else thine the guilt of that insane old man ! 

Mab. Promise, or not a word from me ! I go. 
And Heaven, not thou, befriend them ! ^ 

Crom. {Stamping.) I have said ! 

It may not be ! Speak, girl, and tarry not ! 
Without there, ho ! a guard and fetters I 

Mab. Promise I 

Or you may tear me limb from limb — yet nothing : 
Promise — I tell you all. 

-E'lifer Guard, toV.h fetters. A pause. Clock strikes tior-. 
But three hours more. 
And only will remain of him, joxir friend. 
A little blood-stnined earth — for fears, or vengeance! 

Crom. [Eelctitififf.) Before the Lord, and by my hopt'i; of grace, 
I promise thee I Now answer : where ? how many ? 

Mab. In the small town of Wetherby on Wharfe — 
Three hundred horse. 

Crom. Sound trumpets — boot and saddle ! 

Mine own first ironsides to horse ! Let all 
Bring petronels I Despatch ! 
Saddle me Thunder for the field ; myself 
Will head the troop I Find me three trusty guide.*, 
That know each yard of country ten miles round I 
When all is ready, let the trumpet speak ! 
For life! for life! 

Exit Guard. Alarum. 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 55 

(To Mabel.) One word : Where hold they him ? 

Mab. The prison, nigh the river bank. And now 
Forget me, and farewell I 

Crom. Nay — nay, not so ! 

You go not hence, save with a fitting escort. 

Mab. I must be there before, or all is lost ! 

Crom. Yea, thou art ever right. It shall be so. 
Kingsland ! 

Enter Kingsland. 
Conduct the maid to her attendants. Lady, {Taking her hand.) 
Thou art a goodly and a glorious creature. 
And this night hast thou done a worthy deed ! 
A soldier's blessing — 

Although he be not of thy faith nor faction. 
Cannot disgrace nor harm thee. Fare-thee-well ! 

[Releasing her hand suddejilg, goes to the table and intently scans the 
map.) 

Mab. (Aside. — -A man of wonders ! Good and evil share him ! 
Opposing spirits — which the victory ? 
But no ! the traitor has no hope on Earth — 
And Heaven is Virtue's crown 1 — The deed is done; 
His will and act are wedded : they are one !) 

Exit with Kingsland. 

Crom. Her Majesty, as doubting this our England — 
Hath gone to Holland — noble Digby with her. 
Still the consoling friend ! And yet she loves us ; 
For was it not in token of her love 
She bore away the jewels of the Crown, 
To gaze upon them, and remember England? — 
Nay, but she pawned them all, for arms and men ! 
That, too, was kindly meant: her advocates 
Were most unwise, to undertake her cause 
Without such preparation as the time 
And seriousness require. Her Royal Husband, 
When he can make his mind tot, bravely fights. 
But ever lacks discretion: Witness here! 

(Snatching a letter from the table.) 



W OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT IV. 

I would have saved him — him! the man Charles Stuart! 
I labored for him to my soul's extent ! 
I saw him — offered certain propositions, 
Which, signed, would bring to England peace again : 

He signed ! He lied J 

This letter, written by his faithless hand, 
Was on its way to Holland — to the Queen ! 
Her Majesty may look in vain to read it ! 
What devilish words are here ! 

{Reads.) 
" For the present, I seem, for ray own purposes, to favor the army. 

In the end, whoso bids the highest has me. You disapprove, you 

tell me, my ' promising so much to that villain, Cromwell.' Now, 1 

beseech you, be not alarmed nor troubled ; but leave me to manage, 

who am informed far better of all circumstances than you, by any 

means, can be ; in due season I shall know how to deal with this 

rogue, W'/\o,/or a silken garter, shall befitted ivith a hemj?en rope/" 

Whose dogs are we, that shall be dealt with so ? 

As the Lord liveth, he shall die the death ! 

(Trumjtet sounds.) 

Farewell awhile, mine enemy: my friend, 

Thy rising glory shall have glorious end J 

Ho ! to the rescue ! 

(Futs on his armor. Scene doses.) 
Scene 2. Pruon at Wetherby on Wharf e. Enter Edgar, in ehaiiu, 
Edgar. Pale Morning steals upon the sorrowing Night, 

Soon with her golden wand to touch the world. 

And wake its melancholy dream to glory! 

To me it brings no cheering I All is lost ! 

willingly, gladly to my doom. 

My doom pronounced by thee, I go, my father, 

Giving my life a sacrifice for thine — 

Yet would I hear thy blessing ere I die, 

Yet would 1 look upon thee at the last! 

Why linger in the world ? Its promises 

Are false — but Mabel lives ! though not for me : 



SCENE in. 



OLIVER CROMWELL. 57 



Her love, her duty, her religion circled 

Within the fatal round of loyalty. — 

But England lives ! — Yea, by her children wounded, 

Her beauty, by the Gorgon frown of War, 

Transformed to pitiless stone I 

{Bell tolls.) 

Strike 1 strike ! 1 fear not I 

Thy voice is only terrible to crime 

To me 'tis music! 

{Alarum ivithout.) 

What 1 another charge ? 
{Leaping up.) For England I England ! Let me die for England ! 

Enter Cromwell and others. The chains of Edgar are removed. 

Crom. For England live ! For England and for me ! 
Mount, and away ! 

{Exeunt. Retreat sounded.) 
ScKNE 3. Apartment o/ Cromwell. Enter Sir Henry, icoundeJ, and 
supported by two of CromwelTs Soldiers. 

Sir H. Edgar is safe ! 

\st Soldier. Yea, even in our camp, with Cromwell. 

Sir H. Safe ! safe ! 

2c? Soldier. Here, rest thee on the settle. 

Sir H. Is it the bell ? Why tolls it so, to-night ? 

1*^ Soldier. He wanders. 

2d Soldier. He is woiinded, grieviously. 

1*^ Soldier. Yea, mind and body, both. Truly I pity him ! 

2c? Soldier. 'Twas marvelous how he fought ! 

1st Soldier. Like an old lion ! Three or four of our Troopers, 
yea, the best among us, went reeling before his blade. But it had 
gone hard with him, at last, save for Cromwell's order to make him 
prisoner ! 

2c? Soldier. And that, verily, was no easy task ! If the other Cava- 
liers had met us so bravely, our journey had been bootless ! 

-S'tV H. Dead ! he is dead ! 

1st Soldier. Nay, safe with Cromwell. Look ! 

Enter Edgar. 
Edgar. Father ! 

Sir H. Is it so ? My son ! {Embracing hitn.) 



58 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT IV. 

Edgar. {To \st Soldier.) Summon a surgeon ! 

\st Soldier. One hath already seen him. 

Edgar. What hope ? 

1st Soldier. None ! 

Sir H. 'Tis he ! 'Tis he, at last ! 
My boy, my own boy, Edgar ! Grieve not so ! 
For I am glad to die — your-^vms about me ! 
Much would I say — I cannot! Pardon us, [To Soldiers.) 
We have not met for long — would fain be private — 
A little — ere we part — forever ! 

(Exeunt Soldiers.) 
Are we alone ? 

Edgar. We are alone, dear father. 

Sir H. A sorrowful — a happy meeting, Edgar! 
I ask you not — I feel — that you forgive 
The cruel — the unmanly 

Edgar. Speak not thus — 

Say only, that you pardon 

Sir H. No ! no ! no ! 

1 will not — do not ! I have nought to pardon ! 
You were my joy, my pride, my lone heart's refuge, 
Till this accursed, this unnatural war 
Rushed over us, and tore our lives asunder ! 
I, too, was mad ! 

Edgar. It was my duty, father, 

Still to obey you, still to bear with you — 

Sir H. Not so! 
'Tis man's first duty to obey his conscience ! 
And I was but a merciless old fool, 
That would not even hear you 1 Nay, far more : 
I would have slain you, but for that sweet girl — 
Slain you — that, only for your self-devotion, 
Had come not in my power ! — 
Your quietude, your peace of mind, is slain ! 
Your hope of fireside happiness ! I robbed you, 
Yea, even of the dwelling of your fathers I — 
But no ! there still is strength enough for this — 



SCENE in.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 59 

{Taking the deed from his vest, and tearing it.) 
If all my wrongs could thus find reparation 

Edgar. Peace, dear father, peace 1 

Sir H. The storm is not yet spent ! That cup ! — and hear me. 

[Drinks.) 
Much more of sin than this ! I murdered Mabel I 

Edgar. {Aside. — His mind is clouded !) 

Sir H. Nay, I read your look! 

I murdered her ! Have I not, day by day, 
Like a poor flower beneath the early frost. 
The blight of her affections, seen her fade ? 
Vet ever patient, ever angel-like, 
More pure, more holy in her loveliness ! — 
Thou, too, my son, wilt live a lonely life ; 
Thou wilt not droop before the spite of fortune, 
But, like the last oak of a Druid grove, 
Magnificent and stately wilt remain ; 
Yet in thy dignity companionless, 
The worm still gnawing at thy noble heart ! 
No, No 1 thou can'st not — can'st not pardon me I 

Edgar. It is the work of Heaven ! The Lord hath willed it t 
Uyou have erred, you have in honor erred ; 
But never, for a moment, have I felt 
Wrath, bitterness, or any feeling else, 
Save love and reverence for you, my father 1 
If there be aught — and yet I hate the word — 
For which you need forgiveness from a child — 
With all my heart, with all my soul, I bless you ! 

Sir H. And you — Heaven bless you, Edgar, even as / do ! 
It will — it must ! {They embrace.) 
Mabel, your song is wondrous sweet to-night — 
But why so sad ? It should be gay as summer, 
After this blessed union ! — Ah ! I dream ! 
Is it late, Edgar ? 

Edgar. Morning, Sir, is breaking. 

Sir H. It is not morning ! Lo ! the moonlight comes, 
Like Heaven's forgiveness to a sinner's bosom ! 



60 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT IV. 

When I am gone, saj to poor Mabel — say, 

My sole regret 

Was that I could not join her hand with yours ! 

She will be yours now, now this war is over — - 

^Tis over : — and I mourn not the result : 

The King hath dealt with insincerity ; 

Weak, obstinate, and prejudiced — the wrong 

Is all his own ! Such King- craft, out upon it ! 

Enough ! — She xvill be yours : you will be happy ! — 

How soothing is the nightingale's sad song ! 

Enter Mabel, who kneels beside Sir Henry. 
How beautiful ! "Tis done. My angel waits, 

{Seeing Mabel. ) 
To bear me upward — upward ! List ! but no ! 
The bird hath ceased its song ! The moon hath set ! 
'Tis time to die ! 

{Dies.) 

Scene 4. — Milton's Garden^ before the Cottage. Enter Milton, lean- 
ing on the arm of Andrew. 

And. Yea, the floor and gallery of Westminster were crowded — 
and verily this day more than any : and a marvelous show was it, ol 
bright steel armor, and the vanity of rich, rustling silk, and the nod- 
ding of plumes, and sparkling of diamonds ! 

Mil. What show of reverence by the King, good Andrew ? 

And. None, Master Milton — none ! either by glance or sign ! 
Still did he deny the authority of the Court, answering that " he 
valued not the charge a rush ! " 

Mil. Ay, but he shall ! 'Tis England's charge ! 

And. And the sentence of England ! 

Mil. Is that pronounced ? 

And. He dies ! 

Mil. 'Tis just!— 
Happy for England I happy for the world! 
Thank Heaven the Judges of that wondrous Court 
Were equal to the task — their country's right — 
And freedom's ! Far away, in time to be. 
Pale nations, that have drunk their own hot tears, 



SCENE v.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 61 

Crouching beneath the frown of cruel Kings, 
Shall hear the voice of England, and arise ! 
Charles Stuart shall descend to history 
A poor, weak man, but dangerous withal ! 
He would have torn and cast into the flame 
Our England's Constitution ; would have reigned 
Uncurbed bj Parliaments ; he would have wielded 
The nation's sword with one hand, with the other 
The vast resources of her treasury ; 
Yea ! mould the Church into an instrument 
And weapon of despotic government I 

And. Verily, all this, but for Master Cromwell I 

Mil. How spoke the multitude upon the sentence 9 

And. They shouted "Justice 1 " "Vengeance I " and "Away with 
him 1" One did offer to strike — 

Mil. To strike! It was unworthy of a man! 
Even the unforgiving Law, the will 
And majesty of millions, strikes with pity, 
And tears do rust the axe ! 

And. Truly, love I not the King, yet would I have fought for 
him then ! But a strong arm was upon the coward knave— yea ! in 
a moment — that of Cromwell I 

Mil. Right I Like himself! And like an Englishman! 
Let us go in. I cannot walk to-day: 
My heart, too full for words, can only pray ! 

{Exeunt into Cottage.) 

Scene 5. A grand apartment in the Palace of Whitehall. Upon 
an elevation adorned with crimson curtains^ ostrich plumes^ and the gold- 
blazoned arms of England, is seen a coffin, partly covered with a black 
pall. Several tall silver candle-sticks around the room, with lighted waxen 
torches. Stephenson and Bowtell [Sentinels) passing and re-passing 
each other at intervals. 

Step. 'Tis a long night and a cold ! 

Bow. Very cold I 

Step. We are alone in all this palace ! 

Bow. Except — {Pointing to the coffin.) 

Step. How silent it is I 

6 



62 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT IV. 

Boio. Very silent ! 

Step. You were at the beheading? 

Bow. I was. 

Step. He died like a King! 

Bow. Had he lived like one, he had not died to-day ! 

Step. What, think yon, is the hour ? 

Boto. It grows colder : it must be near the morning. 
Hark ! {Clock strikes three.) Three. 

Step. What more gloomy than a clock in an empty house — 
striking on ! striking on ! Can aught be more gloomy ? 

Boio. Yea, that ! [Looking toward the coffin.) Which is silent ! 

Step. In truth, you are worse than either ! 

Bow. I like not this watching ! [Footsteps heard.) 

Step, What noise is that? Footsteps! Through the hall ! 

Bow. They cross the next saloon ! The door ! 

(Sentinels level their loeapons toward the door.) 

Step. Stand ho ! the word ! 

Bow. Stand ! 

Bnter Cromwell ; a small tvaxen taper in his right hand, in his left a 
staff of ebony. 

Crom. " Justice and Liberty !" 
You keep good watch. Cold work, I trow, and cheerless ! 
What say you to a flagon of October — 
Hey I Stephenson? hey 1 Bowtell ? So ! so ! so! 
Ye are on duty, would ye answer : well — 
I will relieve ye for a little space — 

{They both offer to go.) 
One at a time, one only I — ^^Stephensou, 
Give me thy carabine. Now get thee down 
Quick to the buttery ; and quick return, 
To take bluff Bowtell's place. 

{Exit Stephenson.) 

(Cromwell watches his departure, then stands the carabine in a corner, 
and walks, with stately step to the coffin.) 
He hath not broken on thy watch to-night ! 
He hath not waked to scare ye ! 

Bow. Now may the Lord forbid ! 



SCENE I.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 63 

Crom. You look, in truth, as if he had walked forth 
In his untimely shroud ! But fear not, Bowtell ! 
The King sleeps well, and shall sleeg, till the Day 
When the great trumpet, to a mightier judgment, 
Shall summon him — and to a darker doom I 
Have they made fast the coffin ? I would see him. 

Bote. See him 1 

(Ckomwell throws back the pall, and tries to raise the lid ; it resists. 

He applies the ferule of his staff ; it breaks.) 

Crom. Lend me thy rapier. The hilt will move it. 

[The lid being thus violently opened, he stands for a time, speechless, 

before the body.) 
He sleeps, indeed ! — he sleeps, how peacefully! 
Those eyes shall flash no more with Kingly pride ; 
That lip be wreathed no more with haughtiness ! 
The brain, that plotted so much woe to England — 
The indomitable mind, that would not swerve 
One hair-breadth from its purpose — not for life ! — 
Are these, too, in repose, like that cold lip. 
That nerveless and inanimate right hand ? 

Is that sleep dreamless ? 

Or hath it wakened from this horrid trance. 

After the turmoil of mortality, * 

To peace, to consciousness, to wisdom, life 

Eternal ? Dost thou knoiv, thou icy form, 

Who stands beside thee ? lie who strove against 

Thy tyranny ! Who beat thy banner down, 

And in a whirlwind swept thy Cavaliers ! 

Who plucked thy glory from the glittering throne, 

And paved thy path to that still hostelry — 

The grave ! Thou dost not start ! 

I do but dream ! 
The King is nothing ! Thus, of old, 'twas written : 

" Hell from beneath is moved for thee, to ineet thee at thy com- 
ing : it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the 
earth ; it hath raised up from their thrones all the Kings of the na- 
tions. All they shall speak and say unto thee — Art thou also become 



64 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT IV. 

weak as we? Art thou become like unto us ? * ■'^ ^ 

How art thou fallen from heaven, Lucifer, son of the morning ! 

how art thou cut down, which. did'st weaken the nations ! " 

Thus was it written of a mighter one ; 

Thus hath it been of thee 1 Thy place is empty ; 

Thy country knows thee not ! A thousand years — 

And still asleep ! And when thou shalt awake, 

Thou wilt have nothing, fallen great-one, nothing 

To testify 'gainst me! Thine own self-will. 

Thine own tyrannical and senseless folly. 

Thine own oppressing of the Saints ; thy trampling 

On delicate and tender consciences — 

Nay I more than all, thy treachery to friends. 

To those who would have been thy faithful servers — 

'Twas this ! 

Thou might'st have still sat in thy fathers' place, 

Might'st have outshone them 1 

A pause. 
But for the axe, he had lived many years ! 

Another pause. 
Whom the Lord listeth to destroy — he dies ! 
Then say not that /slew thee ! — 

[Replaces the lid.) 

Farewell on earth forever ? 

Strangely we met — and wonderfully part! 
Sleep till the trumpet, Last on* England's Kings! 
[Replaces the pall.) 
[During Cromwell's speech^ Bowtell remains standing near him, ga- 
zing alternately on the living and the dead, tvith his hand still outstretched 
as when he received back his sword. Re-enter Stephenson, who also 
gazes on Cromwell. Withdrawing apace or two, Cromwell wraps his 
cloak closely round him, and remains in thought. 
A vision appears. 
Several shadoivy figures of Kings and Queens cross the stage. As each 
enters, the Spirit holds a crown over its head, for a moment. More are 
about to pass. Cromwell looks on, with astonishment and disappoint- 
7nenl; the Sentinels gazing with new wonder on him.) 

END OF ACT IV. 



SCENE 1. OLIVER CROMWELL. DO 

ACT V. 

Scene 1. — Room in MihToa's" Cottage. Milton occupies an arm-chair. 
Elizabeth seated on a stool at his feet, ivith writing materials. 

Eliz. {To the pen. — Tarry a little, plumed pilgrim, tarry ! 
Where never ventured mortal thought before — 
Through Heaven's delight — through Eden's happy bloom — 
Thou goest — and the haunted halls of Hell ! 
I long, but dread, to venture forth with thee !) 

Mil. 'Tis here at last — the dream of sorrowing years — 
The dream that shall not die 1 The war grows dim ; 
Its thunders mingle with the circling sea ; 
The winds do scatter them. They are no more. 
Write : 

'' Of man's first disobedience — and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree — whose mortal taste — 
Brought death into the world — and all our woe — 
With loss of Eden "' 

[He hesitates. Andrew appears at the door. Elizabeth motions 
him off.) 

Andrew — Is it not ? 

Uliz. Thine ear is quick to know 1 (7b Andrew. — Away I away I) 

Mil. Nay, let him enter. England is not Eden ! 
And Andrew's coming calls me home again ! 
Some other day, my daughter. Thanks for this ! 

(As she is going.) 
How fares our guest ? I did, ere now, intend 
To ask of her ! 

Miz. Poor Mabel ! Sadly I sadly ! 

She will not stay with us, I fear — 

Mil. Why not ? 

Most welcome is she, for her own sweet sake, 
As well as Edgar's ! 

JSliz. She will go — to Heaven ! 

Mil. Where broken hearts shall win their music back ; 
Where love-dividing Avar shall never come 1 
Say that she must, to please a poor old man, 
Learn a gay lesson from the snow-birds yonder, 



66 OLIVErv CROMWELL. [aCT V. 

And chirp a little, though it be the winter ! 
And say, moreover, I've invented lately. 
For her, a simple, soothing harmony, 
Which, ere the dark, the organ may reveal. 

Eliz. Right gladly will I do my best to cheer her ! 

Mil. Ay, from thy own good heart I 

And. {To Elizabeth.) I came straightway from Mistress Mabel : 
and truly do I think she doth desire thy company ; but ever with — 
" I would, an' if she can, conveniently!" — and — " Ask her hither, if 
you will, good Andrew ! " — and — " Ask her not ; perchance she 
writeth now !'' — so that I scarcely know what thing to ask! 

Mil. Kind and considerate girl ! 

Eliz. And ever so, 

Even to the overmuch ! 

And. Verily, I say she is an angel ! {To Milton. In thy "Para- 
dise," let her be one of the shining band — save, only, with such 
brightness, could it not be " Paradise Lost !") 

Eliz. Ah, Andrew ! if thou fiatterest so the fair, 
Thyself miij grace the book : the Tempter, Andrew ! 

Exit, laughing. 

And. Then will I get me at once to my apple-tree ! 

Exit. 

Mil. England ! still England 1 

England was tottering on the brink of ruin: 

And Cromwell rescued her from tyranny ! 

Then anarch}', vice, folly, misery strove — 

And Cromwell, from the mastership of millions, 

Yet worse than his who died at Whitehall — saved her ! 

Never was liberty so well secured, 

Justice so equal, as they are to-day ! 

England ! 

Defender of the right, in every clime ; 

Mistress of Ocean I Wheresoe'er they be, 

Wandering throughout the world, her sons' broad shield, 

By the mere shadow of her mighty name! 

Sucli now is England ! Such is CromwclVs England ! 

I cannot praise too much this wondrous man I 



SCENE II.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 67 

I know him I What? the Parliament? 'Twas needful! 

They liberated, to enslave again ! 

They should be driven from their usurpation ! 

They loere! He did it, bravely 1 What? Ambition? 

No ! the true lover of his Country, only — 

Not of himself ! His glory is his Crown ! 

Enter Andrew hastily. 

And. Come, Master Milton ! I pray thee, come ! 

Mil. Whither? 

And. Dear Mistress Mabel — {weeps.) 

Mil. Dying ? Is it so ? 

And. Yea ! 

Mil. Hath any sent for Master Edgar ? 

And. Truly. 

Mil. Not my discordant touch : to-night she hears 

The GoD-attuned music of the spheres 1 Exeunt. 

Scene 2. — Chamber in the Palace, tcell lighted. Cromwell, magnifi' 

cently dressed, slowly pacing the floor. Bible, Sword of State and golden 

Sceptre lying on a table, u-ith various papers, held in place by a dagger. 

A chime of bells. Rejoicing, icithout. 

Crom. Send forth j'our merry chimes, ye high-swung bells ! 
Answer them, cannon, from your blazing throats ! 
Huge bonfires, dim the stars I From street to street, 
Let torches fly. From every casement shine, 
Tapers and lights ! Ay, feast ye, and carouse, 
To Cromwell ! Cromwell ! What is he ? A man — 
Weary and full of grief! — The Lord Protector ! 
'Tis something! This ! and This! 'Tis England's g lory! 
[Taking alternately the Sword and Sceptre. 

A slight noise heard.) 
What? 

(Starts — places his hand in his bosom — examines the room — listens. 
Re-assured, sits down at the table.) 

The soldier of a hundred fields — afraid ! 
Yea, in his palace, all encased in steel, 
And armed — to fight with shadows ! Be they so ? 
[Turning over the pile of papers.) 



68 OLIVER CROMWELL. [aCT 

Threats from assassins ! hints from hidden friends, 
Dwellers in every Court ! Despatches, here — 
And letters intercepted ! Be thej shadows ? 
[Taking up a pamphlet.) 
" Killing no Murder ! " 'Tis a pleasant title ! 

[Reads. Closes the pamphlet.) 
The perilous and subtle-minded villain ! 
Damnable arguments ! — 

[Rising again; paces the floor.) 
And my own muster-roll contains the name 
Of many a Brutus, who would free his Country — 
By what ? My secret murder ! — 'Tis a lie 1 
A wicked lie, but framed to break my rest ! 
My own brave ironsides ? — Yet will I watch I 
Trust none ! Even Harrison is cold, of late 1 
And Fleetwood thwarts me ! Hacker, once my friend, 
Is now my bitter foe ! The snares are set! 
Pitfalls are digged for me, and arrows whetted ! 
And wherefore ! Who in England have I wronged ? 
They cannot charge me with bloodthirstiness. 
For, to a fault, have I been merciful. 
I will be so no longer ! Slingsby, first. 
To trial ! Hewit, then ! And if condemned, 
As the Lord liveth, shall they die ! — 

[Kneels , the Bible in his left hayid and the Sword in his right. ) 
Thou ! 
Thou hast forsaken me ! Thy minister 
Did warn me of Thy pleasure ; I arose 
To do Thy work, and Thou did'st prosper me ! 
Lo ! by mg hand did'st Thou strike down the King ! 
Lo ! by mg hand the fallen realm was raised ! 
And Thou hast made me, as Thy promise was, 
The First in England ! — to abandon me ! 
Let not my blood, which, ever, at Thy bidding. 
Flowed freely, by a murderer be shed I 
Biit let me die when Thou, hast done with me. 
In fullness of my fame ; yea ! die in peace ! — 



SCENE II.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 69 

Or gallantly upon my charger's back, 
Amid the blast of trumpets ! 

(A step is heard, without, and a loio tap at the door. Cromwell rises, 
lays doicn the Bible, and advances.) 

Ho ! what there ? 
Fnter Guard. 

Guard. A stranger is below, craving to speak in private with 
your Highness on matters of great import. 

Crom. What like is he ? A stranger ! Tall and pale — 
A scar upon his cheek — the right ; a mantle 
Uf blue — with cape of red; slouched hat; red feather? 

Guard. Even so, your Highness! 

Crom. His right hand gloved — resting upon the hilt 
Of a long tuck — and, on the left-hand fingers, 
Three rings ? 

Guard. Of a truth, I observed not 

Crom. Begone then, instantly, demand his name : 
Not that it matters — mark his hands, I tell thee — 
They should be as I said. A plain gold hoop 
On the forefinger of the left — a seal, 
Cornelian ; with a guard of jet, the nest. 
If it be so, 

Say I will go no further in that business, 
But send one to confer with him to-morrow, 
Three hours past noon — the place he wots of. Hence ! 
Yet stay ! li not so — take him to the Gatehouse, 
And hold him there, at peril of your life I 
Trouble me not, in either case, to-night. Exit Guard. 

(Cromwell draws from different parts of his attire three pistols, and 
examines the flints and priming. Then extinguishes all the lights save one, 
carefully locks the door, and opens a panel in the wainscoting.) 
This pain ! — 

{^Placing his hand on his heart. A pause.) 

the proud privilege of eminence 1 

1 may not even sleep where last I slept. 
But, like a thief, must grope along the dark, 
In secret ways, unto a secret chamber ! 

Exit through panel. 



70 OLIVER CR03IWELL. [aCT V. 

Scene 3. A coj-ridor of the palace. Enter two Soldiers; R. 
1st Soldier. And this you knoTr, of a truth ? 

2d Soldier. I do. 

1st Soldier. The lady is a comely one, good faith — a ladj^ with a 
father, too ! Cromwell' s daughter need not go a-begging ! 

2c? Soldier^ Though Sir Edgar did decline her ladyship ! 

1st Soldier. It passes I 

2d Soldier. Bethink thee : Mistress Mabel, his betrothed, so lately 
dead ! 

1st Soldier. And what of that ! Shall a young man, yea, and a 
man marked out for great affairs ! shall he go sighing like a country 
clown, in sooth, for a lost love, when he may find another and a better 
— and that the daughter of ray Lord Protector ! 

2d Soldier. Ne'erless, 'tis sober certainty! And more than this: 
thereupon, Sir Edgar left England ! 

l.s^ Soldier. Left England ! Truly, then is the land lighter by o?ie 
fool! 

2d Soldier. An" you will speak so, whisper. ! 

1st Soldier. I care not ! I ! Whither went he ? 

2c? Soldier. 'Tis said, to Holland. 

1st Soldier. TVhat madness made liim go? 

2c? Soldier. Draw near : Cromwell's ! 

Ut Soldier. How ? 

2c? Soldier. Sir Edgar thinks him tainted with ambition — that he 
would be King ! 

1st Soldier. King? An' if he would, he had been so, long since ! 

2c? Soldier. Still, may it not be in his thought ? 

1st Soldier. Truly, his thought is on a Crown above this sinful 
world. And he may wear it soon ! Hast thou not seen how pale and 
sad he grows ? 

2c? Soldier. His daughter's death — Lady Elizabeth's — doth so affect 
him, for verily he loved her with a passing love ! And then the man- 
ner of her death! I heard her shriek: "Blood! blood!" till all 
Hampton Court did ring with her wild raving ! " Blood !" she cried, 
"I float, I smother in a sea; a sea of human blood ! Who comes? 
who comes? red with the gore of monarchs? Father? — not father — 
no — no — not my father !" Then I saw Cromwell tremble— ay, the 
strong warrior shake ! But this will pass anon. 



SCENE IV.] OLIVER CROMWELL. 71 

Isf. Soldier. All England's weight on his single shoulders, as, in 
sooth, it is, would crush a giant. A giant was he, once ; but that 
Scottish ague struck severely ! These plots, too, eyen against his life 
— these secret villains ! — do work upon his heart. With that, falls all ! 

2d Soldier. I pray it he not so ! 

1st Soldier. I join your prayer ! For verily hath he done great 
things for England ! 

{Exeunt.) 

Scene 4. Chamher in the Palace. Cromwell lyinff on a couch. 
Around him stand Milton and Andrew, a Physician, Wife and two 
DAUGHTERS of Cromu^eU, Soldiers, and Attendants. Night. A storm 
of rain and hail, with thunder and lightning at intervals. 

Phys. {To Milton. — 
The struggle has been long. His hour is come!) 

Mil. Hast thou informed him this ? 

Phys. I have, but vainly. 

Ever he answers 

Crom. {Partly rising.) Keep them all away ! 
Keep them away ! What would they with me now? 
I am not ready ! No ! I will not die ! 

The Spirit of King Charles slowly enters. 
Away ! Why dost thou glare on me? King? King? 
There be no Kings in England! — 
Beseech me not, I saj' — /cannot save thee ! — 
It falls ! it falls ! that deadly-gleaming axe ! 

Said I not so ? There be no Kings in England ! {Exit King.) 

'Tis gone ! What dream was this ? — 

Mil. Be calm, I prithee ! 

Cro7n. Ha ! Blind John Milton ! Come ! thy hand ! thy hand ! — 
I, too, am in the dark ! — 

I love thee ! Thou hast served our England well ! 
Thy words were mighty ! Elirope heard, and trembled — 
Tea, Kings upon their thrones I 

Enter the Spirit, hearing a Croicn. 
What! Devil! thou! 
Thou who did'st break upon my childish sleep ! 
Thou who did'st say : '^ Hail Cromwell ! First in England !" 






72 OLIVER CROMWELL. 



[act v. 



Thou who did'st plunge my stainless soul in blood — 
My King's — my people's — yea ! my own dear child's ! 
"Blood ! blood ! I float — I smother in a sea !" 
Dost thou not hear her? — What ! the Crown ! the Crown ! 

{Leaps from the Couch.) 
'Tis mine ! I won it on the battle-field ! 
'Tis mine ! I won it — 

( Grasps toward the Crown. The Spirit moves it away.) 
Nay ! it is mine own ! 
Not by the axe ! no ! no ! 'twas not the axe ! 
In war I won it — peace I won it — truth — 
And liberty, and glory ! 

(^xt7 Spirit. A peal of thunder.) 
Cannon ! Charge ! 
Charge down upon them, with your conquering pikes ! 
For England I ' ' Let the Lord arise !" — 

{They remove Cromwell hack to the Couch.) 
The King ! 
How peacefully he sleeps ! how peacefully I 

A pause. 
What day is this? 

Mil. The Day of Cromwell !— 
Dunbar! 

Crom. Dunbar ! The Fortunate I Look up ! 
See'st thou my planet ? Edgar — where is Edgar ? 
He saw it blaze upon the battle-night ! 

Another pause. 
{A crash of thunder, with vivid lightning.) 
On! on! Have at thee ! What, again? Dismounted I 

Ho ! rescue ! Lost ! Ardenne 1 help ! resc 

(Dies.) 



W^Vt^'^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

,,j|!iiijiiiiiiiii|iiijiiiii|ij|jiiiiii|!iiiii|i!j 

iiiilliiiiliiiiiiiiiliiiliiiiiiilililiiiiiliiiiiiliil ^ 
018 597 056 5 • 






m 



